


Threat Level: God

by LostCybertronian



Series: Threat Level: God [1]
Category: One Punch Man
Genre: Blood, Hero!Genos, M/M, Minor Character Death, Mutual Attraction, Nonexplicit sex, Pining, Slow Burn, TLG!AU, Villain!Saitama, evil!saitama
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-03
Updated: 2017-09-20
Packaged: 2018-10-27 09:05:19
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 17
Words: 22,832
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10806027
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LostCybertronian/pseuds/LostCybertronian
Summary: During a fight with a monster, Saitama is severely injured. What results from that, the public's negative view of him, and a weird substance injected into him by the monster, is a god-level villain that may destroy everything the Hero Association stands for. And Genos is the only one who can save him.Update: The first chapter of the sequel to this fic, Taking Joy in the Killing, is now posted!





	1. Chapter 1

Bright moonlight glinted off the black and gray metal of the figure leaping from rooftop to rooftop in a blur of movement.  
Genos couldn't help but glance over his shoulder every few yards as he ran. Not because he wanted a glimpse of his pursuer-- he knew exactly who he was running from -- he just needed to know how long it would be before he was caught. And from the looks of the yellow-red blur that was rapidly closing in, Genos didn't have long.  
He never could measure up to his Master's speed.  
He gripped his case tighter in his hand and pressed on, mechanical eyes searching, searching, searching. This was City Q. If Watchdog Man was nearby, maybe he could help-  
A strong, gloved hand seized the back of Genos' shirt and yanked him back from the edge of the building from which he'd been about to jump.  
The case flew from the cyborg's grasp and over the edge, and Genos watched with sick dread as his last hope plummeted down, down, out of his reach and leaving him in the hands of the twisted version of his sensei.  
Saitama spun him around, forcing Genos to face him and gripping his shoulders with the gentlest of touches, yet Genos knew that Saitama could crush him if he so much as twitched his fingers.  
Saitama smiled, then spoke, voice still raspy and cracked due to the damage his vocal cords had sustained months ago, "why do you run, Genos?"  
The cyborg opened his mouth to answer, but the bald man continued. "You really shouldn't flee from your master like that. . ."  
Genos clenched his fists by his sides to keep them from trembling, "my apologies, Saitama-sensei."  
Saitama's smile turned condescending and he patted Genos on the head, "very good. Now, what were you trying to keep from me?"  
Genos opened his mouth, shut it. Tried, "it was an upgrade from Doctor Kuseno, Master."  
Saitama's face darkened and suddenly Genos found himself being dragged into the air by the collar of his shirt, the material tearing under Saitama's grasp.  
"We can do this the easy way," the caped hero growled, stepping up onto the building's edge and swinging Genos out so that his feet dangled over empty air, "or the hard way."  
Genos gritted his teeth, "you're more of a fool than I ever took you for if you think the fall will kill me."  
Saitama snarled, his normally blank face contorting into an ugly mask of fury. Genos had struck a nerve. "And you're an idiot, Genos. I know the fall won't kill you."  
He drew back a fist, "but this will."

0o0o0o0o0

_Three months prior_

_"Ugggghhhhhhhhh!"_ Saitama broke the controller in half, showering black shards everywhere.  
King, nonplussed by the accidental destruction of his game controller, merely kept playing, thumbs working the buttons of his remaining controller swiftly.  
His lips quirked up in the ghost of a smile, "tough luck, Mister Saitama."  
Saitama merely pouted.  
Genos, seated behind them, glanced up from his notebook, mouth turned up in a slight smirk. He opened his mouth as if to say something but suddenly his phone rang. He got up, pulling the device from his pocket, and left the room. King and Saitama kept gaming.  
"This is Genos."  
"This is the Hero Association," the voice on the other end informed him. "We are issuing a summons for Class A heroes and higher for a monster that is rampaging through City J. Threat Level: Dragon."  
"I am close by," Genos answered, "I will be there shortly."  
He flipped the phone shut and poked his head back into the other room, "Saitama-sensei!"  
"Eh? What is it, Genos?" The bald man tore his eyes away from the television screen to fix him with a puzzled stare.  
"There is a monster! I have been summoned."  
"Wait! I'm coming too." Saitama lunged up, his cape whipping around him in his hurry to get to the door, "let's go, Genos!"  
"Yes, Sensei!" Genos started to follow, but he paused and glanced over his shoulder, "are you coming, King? You are Class-S."  
The room began to rumble as the King Engine picked up, yet the hero didn't even bother to acknowledge him.  
Genos shrugged. _Maybe, like Saitama-sensei, his strength bores him._  
Then he turned and followed his Master.

0o0o0o0o0

The monster in City J was _massive._ It was purple, with myriads of jagged, gray spikes protruding from its head, limbs, and back. A long, thick tail whipped around it, hitting buildings and occasionally grabbing a person and throwing them with enormous strength. Its maw gaped as it roared, spilling a rancid purple gas everywhere.  
There were other heroes too, strewn, unconscious, over rubble. One of them, Class A hero Stinger, was convulsing, his nails ripping and tearing at his hero uniform, digging angry red lines into his exposed skin. His mouth hung open in a silent scream that Saitama couldn't hear.  
"The gas is poisonous!" Genos exclaimed, skidding to a stop.  
"We have to save them," Saitama came to a stop next to them, "they may die."  
"I will engage the monster!" Genos started forward, but Saitama held out a hand.  
"No." He said, "I will take out the monster. It will be quicker that way. You are a cyborg, so you are immune to the poison gas that monster is spewing. Save the heroes."  
Genos' eyebrows furrowed and he nodded, a newfound determination on his face, "yes, Sensei!"  
And with a quick jet of flame he was gone, leaving Saitama to face the monster.  
The bald hero took a deep breath, held his nose, and plunged into the purple mist.  
It felt like a million tiny needles were all sticking themselves into him at once.  
It hurt. A _lot._  
Saitama stumbled, righted himself, kept going. Towards the monster. It's huge feet, leaving craters in the ground as it progressed steadily forward, leaving craters in the ground. The caped hero leapt to the side to dodge the monster's tail, grabbing it as it whipped past.  
Something-- _somethings_ \-- dug into his hands, piercing the thick red gloves that he always wore and shoving themselves into his skin. He grunted, but held on, dragging the monster back by its tail.  
The monster yelped in surprise, but that quickly turned to a growl and it lashed its tail and sent Saitama flying.  
He hit the ground right next to where the paramedics were loading Stinger into an ambulance.  
Both the paramedics and the gathering crowds shouted cries of shock and surprise as he hauled himself up.  
"What is a Class B doing fighting a Dragon Level monster?"  
"Where is Demon Cyborg? I thought I saw him!"  
"Yeah! Let's see Demon Cyborg! He'll take it out much faster than the Caped Baldy!"  
Saitaima ignored them, wiping his nose with one tingling hand and lunging back into the fray.  
He did, however, forget to hold his breath.  
The needles that had assaulted him previously now clawed their way into his nose and mouth and down his throat as he raced back towards the monster, which had apparently forgotten about its oncoming doom and had returned to bestowing some doom of its own.  
It didn't even get the chance to turn to face Saitama before it was blown into pieces by a single punch, per usual.  
Cheers rose up among the crowds once they saw that they were no longer in danger, and Saitama staggered from the dissipating mist to see Genos sprinting toward him.  
"Sensei!" His disciple's voice sounded frantic, disembodied, and distorted.  
_Is he hurt?_ Was all that crossed Saitama's mind before he collapsed, unconscious.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sonic, Genos, and Saitama fight.
> 
> Saitama and the other injured heroes are rushed to the hospital after the monster is defeated.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Weekly updates, every Wednesday!  
> As for "I Knew," my Markiplier fanfic, I am working on Chapter 2 and that should be up soon!

_Now._

Genos shut his eyes firmly and waited for the killing blow. He didn't struggle. He didn't fight. He knew that he had absolutely no chance of winning.  
No. He was content to perish at the hands of his beloved teacher.  
But the blow never came. Instead, from somewhere behind them, a man spoke.  
"Saitama the hero!"  
Saitama chuckled, low and dark. "Are you sure you're not looking for someone else?"  
He turned, still holding Genos aloft by his shirt, to face Speed'O'Sound Sonic.  
Genos couldn't help but sigh with relief when he saw his case clutched tightly in the ninja's arms.  
Sonic hissed, "you are Saitama the hero! You cannot pull the wool over _my_ eyes!"  
"I'm no hero." Saitama's face darkened. "I never was."  
"That's not true!" Genos burst out.  
The bald man cocked his head and raised an eyebrow mockingly, "oh, really?" He asked softly, "and whoever in this whole wide world ever considered me a hero?"  
Genos opened his mouth to say _me. I always have, and I always will._  
But Sonic beat him to the (literal) punch.  
The ninja flashed forward, dropping the case-- Genos cringed as the contents rattled and clattered around inside it-- and flinging forward a cluster of his deadly blades, "Exploding Shurikens!"  
In less than a moment, Saitama was gone, and Genos hit the hard, unforgiving rooftop, dangling half-over the edge. He was quick to get his bearings and scrabble back up onto the rooftop and out of the way as Sonic's shurikens exploded all at once.  
"I'm bored." Saitama appeared behind Sonic, easily fending off the ninja's harried blows before knocking him aside with the lightest of taps.  
Genos began to scramble up, to grab for the case, but suddenly his sensei was there, dark eyes devoid of all emotion. The cyborg felt a chill run through his plating at the lack of _anything_ resembling emotion in Saitama's eyes.  
"I'm bored, Genos!" He squatted so that he was at Genos' level, "so this time, I will let you go."  
Then, before Genos could respond, Saitama was gone in a flash of red, yellow, and white.

0o0o0o0o0

_Three Months Prior._

"So he _can_ get hurt."  
"I knew he was a fraud."  
"What is Demon Cyborg, a Class-S hero, doing with that Class-B loser?"  
"Sensei."  
Saitama opened his eyes.  
Genos was leaning uncomfortably close, his eyebrows furrowed with concern, "how are you feeling?"  
Saitama opened his mouth, head feeling like it was stuffed with cotton, but only a low, cracking groan escaped.  
"My apologies, Sensei," Genos' face disappeared from view. "You should not try to speak. The poisonous fumes injured your vocal cords and scorched the inside of your throat."  
Saitama struggled to turn his head, confused, but Genos appeared again, nudging the bald man's head gently back into place.  
"It is best if you do not try to move, Sensei. You are severely injured."  
_Where are we?_ Saitama wanted to ask, _are you okay? Are you injured?_  
"We are in an ambulance," Genos continued, retreating back out of view, "you and the other heroes are being rushed to the Hero Association Hospital in City A."  
Saitama stopped listening as his disciple rambled on about how fortunate it was that he was alive, how he was truly invincible and _yada, yada,_ and focused on the simple act of turning his head to the side. It was difficult, and it _hurt._ His entire body hurt. He couldn't even feel his hands.  
But he managed to do it, and he awarded himself a small victory as he finally got a good view of Genos.  
The cyborg looked pretty okay, considering what he'd been through before. He'd only lost one arm-- it was in his lap-- and only a little bit of the circuitry hidden underneath the artificial skin of his face was showing.  
His clothes, however, were half-burnt, hanging in tatters from his metal frame.  
_But then again,_ Saitama considered, _they almost always are._  
"I told you not to move, Sensei," Genos admonished, "you don't want to exasperate your injuries, do you?"  
Then he smiled, a tiny ghost of a smile, "you deserve to rest, Sensei. You defeated the monster when others could not. You are truly a hero."  
_I knew he was a fraud._ The words echoed through Saitama's head as he closed his eyes.  
_Yeah, right._  
The Hero Association Hospital in City A was swarming with press, and as the heroes' ambulances roared into the Emergency Room entrances and paramedics began unloaded stretchers.  
When Saitama's stretcher was hauled out of the back of the ambulance, Genos hovering close by, the reporters clustered around the cyborg, microphones held out expectantly.  
Saitama couldn't help the tug in his chest as the cyborg brushed them off and trotted to catch up.  
"They do not matter," Genos told him, "they can get their news somewhere else. It is more important that I make sure you are safe. Though," he smirked, "I am perfectly sure that, even in your condition, you can take care of yourself."  
Amusement bubbled up inside him. _Didn't know you were so worried about me, Genos,_ he wanted to say, but, once again, there only came a breathy whisper.  
_Right. Can't talk._  
As the stretcher rolled into the ER and into a curtained-off area, a doctor hurried to meet them.  
His face lit up like a light-bulb when he spotted Genos.  
"Demon Cyborg!" He cried, offering a smile that oozed admiration, "I really appreciate what you have done for us."  
He turned his gaze down to Saitama and seemed to realize why he was there. "And Mr. Saitama!" He adjusted his glasses and glanced down at the clipboard clutched in one meaty hand, "let's see here. The inside of your throat, mouth, and nose were scorched, but your vocal cords fared the worst. It is uncertain whether or not you will ever be able to speak properly again. The chemical burns on your face, however," he brightened, "will be able to be fixed easily. We will use cutting-edge skin-grafts that will not even leave a scar.  
"Now, your hands-- oh, hello, Nurse, could you help me, please?" The doctor waved over a small, slim woman dressed in scrubs.  
The nurse began to peel off Saitama's gloves, casting shy glances at Genos while she did so. Her cheeks flushed a deep pink. Genos ignored her completely.  
"Your hands were injected with some sort of toxin," the doctor continued, "many of the other heroes were also injected with this toxin. Only Stinger, however, suffered a reaction. It seems he was allergic to its chemical makeup. The toxin, however, was found to be harmless. You will be fine. And the swelling in your hands will go down in about twenty-four hours."  
Saitama could only watch, suppressing the panic that threatened to burst to the surface at the sight of his hands, which were inflamed, shiny, and red. _No wonder I can't feel them._  
Genos observed his teacher warily, searching for any kind of reaction.  
It was hard to see at first. The slight crinkling of the skin at the corners of his eyes, the furrowing of his scorched-off eyebrows, but then Saitama took a deep breath, and all emotion was wiped away, leaving his usual straight-faced expression in its place.  
"So. . . my hands. . . wi-ll get better?" The cyborg couldn't help but wince at the creaking rasp that was Saitama's voice. There was something there, bubbling just under the surface, something like anger, and a deep, ingrained sadness, one that Genos would do anything to soothe.  
He shifted his gaze to the doctor, who looked surprised, and suppressed a small glimmer of satisfaction. The fact that Saitama could talk at all was simply more proof of his immense strength, physically and otherwise.  
"Why, yes," the doctor adjusted his glasses, "yes we can."  
Saitama closed his eyes, and Genos swore he saw tears forming at the corners of the hero's eyes. He understood. Without use of his hands, Saitama couldn't punch things. Without his ability to punch things, he couldn't function as a hero. Though, no matter what, Genos would always consider his sensei a hero.  
"Uh. . . e-excuse me, Muh-Mister Demon Cyborg. . . sir," the nurse squeaked nervously and her cheeks flushed bright pink as the cyborg tore his eyes away from Saitama and fixed her with a golden glare, "we-we'll have t-to ask you to wait in the w-waiting room with the other he-heroes' loved ones while M-Mister Saitama is pre-prepped for surgery."  
Genos didn't respond. He only crossed his arms and shifted his gaze back to Saitama, a heavy sense of dread settling over him like a shroud.  
Saitama looked at him, eyes bloodshot and sunken against his marred skin. He offering Genos a small smile.  
"Go," he croaked, "I'll be fine."  
The cyborg gave a reluctant nod, "yes, Sensei."  
He turned, and with one last glance over his shoulder, left, his entire frame aching with every step.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mumen joins the crew and together, Genos, Sonic, and Mumen Rider meet up with Bang.
> 
> Garou and Saitama fight.

_Now._

Genos scrabbled for the briefcase, which still lay where it had fallen. He opened it, and breathed a heavy sigh of relief when he saw that its contents were still intact.  
"I figured it was important," Sonic got to his feet, clutching his sword, "if you and your precious master were squabbling over it."  
Genos snapped the case shut, staring at the handle with a frightening intensity. "Saitama is my master no longer. In fact, he. . . is not even a hero anymore."  
"So Saitama has strayed from the path of good?" Even without looking, Genos could tell the ninja was shocked. Then he cackled, "Ha! How does it feel to lose the one thing in this world that you care about?!"  
"You misunderstand." Genos shifted his gaze to Sonic, eyes narrowing, "it is not a matter of my feelings. Saitama becoming a villain could mean the end of the world as we know it."  
Sonic began to huff out a protest, but Genos cut him off.  
"Have you ever seen something- no matter the threat, hero, villain, monster, or otherwise- that he could not defeat?"  
It looked like Sonic had been punched. All the air whooshed from him and he visibly deflated. "It will be a threat level of _god."_  
Genos nodded gravely, picking up the case and straightening up, "what is contained in this case is our last hope. Doctor Kuseno, scientist for justice, has developed a serum that will counteract the toxin in Saitama's body that is causing him to act like this."  
He sighed, "I am. . . very grateful that you rescued it."  
Sonic nodded slowly, considering, and finally sheathed his sword, ". . .assume that I wanted to join you on your mission to cure your master. Where would we go from here?"  
The smallest of smiles appeared on Genos' face, "now, we go see Bang."

0o0o0o0o0  
 _Three Months Prior._

When he next woke up, he was groggy and confused by the once again unfamiliar surroundings. It was dark, and everything ached.  
He still couldn't feel his hands.  
Something beeped off to his left, and when he tried to shift to a more comfortable position, there was a tugging sensation in his left arm. The part of it he could move, anyway. His arms seemed to be extended in front of him, held in place in a Frankenstein-esque fashion.  
A single coherent thought floated to the surface: _is that an IV?_  
He shifted again. The tugging continued. _Why do I have an IV?_  
He tried to sit up, but that proved impossible. Everything hurt _too much._ In a way, he was almost glad for it. He thought he couldn't get hurt- much less _feel_ that hurt- anymore.  
Saitama sighed, an action that felt as if someone was slicing at the inside of his throat with a million knives.   
He must be in the hospital, recovering from the monster attack. And the almost indistinguishable lumps poking from the darkness must be the other heroes, recovering from their own wounds.  
 _Is Genos here? Did he go home?_  
Closer investigation using his limited range of senses indicated that his disciple was nowhere to be found. No warm glow of biolights, no soft, mechanical whir of fans. No comforting presence of Genos.  
But there was something. . . a rustling, off to his left.   
He painstakingly turned his head, straining to catch a glimpse. But there was only blackness.   
Until a bright shock of white floated through the gloom.  
Saitama squinted, and after a moment he realized that the white object wasn't an object at all: it was hair.  
More specifically, Garou's hair.  
The Human Monster made his way around the ward, leaning over each bed, giving a soft huff, then moving on to the next one.  
When he reached Saitama's bed, he leaned close, cat's eyes widening in surprise.  
"Saitama the hero," he whispered, then a smirk crossed his demonic features, "I did not think you were capable of being wounded. And your hands. . ." he tsked, "not going to be using those for punching things anytime soon, are you?"  
Saitama narrowed his eyes, anger beginning to churn in his stomach.  
Garou straightened, "no matter. I am not here for you."  
He began to move on.  
The anger flamed into rage and with a mere tug, Saitama's fists were free of their braces. One clench of his fingers shattered the casts.  
He felt the pain. It was _agonizing_ to curl his fingers even a fraction, but he embraced it. Relished it, even. Saitama ripped the IV from his arm, splattering liquid everywhere.  
Garou turned, shock written across his face, only to be sent through a wall as he was backhanded.  
Several unfortunate heroes uttered surprised cries as chunks of wood and drywall forced them from unconsciousness.   
Saitama ignored them. He padded in bare feet towards the Garou-shaped hole in the wall.   
"Do you think. . . I am _weak?"_ His voice was barely more than a hoarse croak, but in the quiet of the hospital ward he could've been shouting.  
Garou opened his mouth to say _what is wrong with you?_ But his jaw had been snapped, and only a garbled moan and a gush of blood escaped. He began to stagger up, but Saitama was upon him in an instant.  
He dragged the Human Monster up by his skintight shirt, fingers just barely managing to curl around the black fabric.   
Saitama cursed viciously and yanked Garou up further so that their faces were mere centimeters apart.  
Garou struggled and clawed at the hero's grip like a wounded cat, but he was nowhere near strong enough to break the grip holding him, even with Saitama in a weakened state.  
 _"I am not weak."_ He growled, and, uncurling the fingers of one hand slowly from Garou's shirt, drew back his fist.  
Suddenly lights flooded the ward.

0o0o0o0o0  
 _Now._

"Hurry! Hurry! Come in, come in." Bang ushered the ragtag group into his dojo, shutting the doors firmly behind them and sliding the deadbolt into place. Then he turned to Genos, "Did you get the serum?"  
Genos offered the case, "yes."  
"Any trouble from Saitama?"  
"He confronted us in City Q, but he let me go." Genos looked down at the floor.  
Mumen Rider, who had joined them at the fringes of City Z, placed a comforting hand on the cyborg's shoulder, "that's a good sign. Maybe there's still some of _him_ in there."  
"He's gone." Sonic rolled his eyes, "we should kill him, before he kills _us._  
Genos whipped his head around to glare at Sonic, eyes flaming.   
"Even if you could get within ten meters of Saitama-sensei, he has more power in his little finger than you will ever have," he snarled, "you are fortunate I do not obliterate you where you stand for your insolent comments."  
"Well-" Sonic started, reaching for his sword, but before he could do anything, Bang cut him off.  
"All threats aside," he said, casting a warning glance at Genos, "there is no way you, Genos, or anyone could take down Saitama. Tornado, Class-S, rank two, could not even do it. And she tried."  
Everyone fell silent at that.   
The ESPer had been one of the first to try and stop Saitama, back in the early stages of his terrorism. The battle had been quick, and Tornado had paid the ultimate price.  
Suddenly, Genos jerked his head up, "I sense someone!"  
As soon as the words escaped his mouth, a knock came at the doors.  
The members of the group glanced at each other. Saitama would've simply punched his way through.  
So it must not be Saitama.  
Bang crossed the dojo floor and slowly slid the deadbolt back, opening the door slowly.  
Outside, bat slung over his shoulder, pale and with his clothing hanging off him in tatters, stood Metal Bat.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Saitama and Genos rest.
> 
> Badd confronts the "Save Saitama" crew.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologize for the short/crappy chapter! I have so much to do and so very little time to do it this week, since finals and last minute homework assignments and next week will present to you a much better chapter.

_Three Months Prior._

The lights and sudden shouts of the hospital aides startled Saitama so much that he pulled his punch. Still, it did a massive amount of damage even the Human Monster couldn't withstand it.  
He mewled pathetically as blood spurted from a nose that broke along with all the other bones in his face and neck.  
Saitama released him, and Garou crumpled like a wet leaf and stayed like that, curled amidst wood splinters and drywall dust, unmoving.  
By then Saitama was gone.  
0o0  
Genos lay awake on Saitama's futon, his open journal beside him. He couldn't bring himself to write in it, to detail Saitama's wounds or the way he looked when he'd seen his hands  
The damage the monster's toxin-laced barbs had done was extensive, and what was Saitama without his ability to punch things?  
A hero, of course. Genos knew that, but others would not.  
So he lay there, staring at the ceiling, unable to power down into sleep mode, consumed with worry for his master.  
That is, until his proximity alarm went off. Someone was approaching.  
Genos rose silently from the futon and crossed into the second room of the tiny apartment he and Saitama shared. There, palm glowing, he crouched and waited to see if what was coming would be a threat.  
It got closer and closer until the only thing separating it from Genos was ten feet of hallway and one inch of wood.  
Whoever they were, their energy was extremely low. So much so that it was like they were barely there. Perhaps they would not care to fight and Genos could warn them off. He was certain Saitama-sensei would not want to return home to a ruined apartment. However, if it came to it, he was confident he could end this quickly. No mess.  
The doorknob jiggled, and a soft, exhausted curse came from the other side. Genos straightened.  
He _knew_ that voice.  
He hurried to open the door. "Sensei!"  
Saitama stumbled in, wearing nothing but a thin hospital gown. He looked terrible: pale, bloody, and hands struggling to even twitch. His entire body trembled with some emotion that Genos couldn't pinpoint.  
The cyborg ran to support him, slipping an arm around Saitama's waist so the older man could lean into him. Together, they hobbled back to the living room.  
"Why are you out of the hospital, Saitama-sensei?" Genos asked, "you are supposed to be resting and healing."  
To his surprise-and alarm- Saitama's eyes filled with tears. "I. . . don't know what's going on, Genos."  
"What do you mean?"  
"I. . ." Saitama closed his eyes, tears spilling down his cheeks, one at a time. "I. . . I think I killed someone."  
Genos sucked in a breath. "Are you sure?"  
The hero nodded, almost imperceptibly, "I'm sure. Everything. . is a blur, and I cannot remember who-who it was. . but I am sure."  
More tears. Saitama ducked his head, shoulders shaking.  
Genos eased him down onto the futon in a sitting position. He wasn't sure what to do.  
He had never seen Saitama cry. Not once.  
So he settled down next to his master, hoping to offer some comfort by simply being close.  
Saitama seemed to accept it, scooting closer and leaning his head on Genos' shoulder.  
If Genos had a heart, it would be racing. He didn't dare move even an inch.  
"I don't know. . what's _wrong_ with me."  
Genos opened his mouth. Shut it. He had no answer, but he tried anyway. "It will be alright, Saitama-sensei. I am sure of it."  
"Thank you, Genos," Saitama rasped, closing his eyes.  
Genos swallowed the terrible, terrible feeling that he was very, very wrong. "You are welcome, Saitama-sensei."

0o0o0o0o0  
_Now._

"Where is he?" Badd shoved his way in, brandishing his bat furiously, "I _know_ yer hidin' 'im! Tell 'im to come out and face the justice 'e deserves!"  
Genos set his case down, mechanical eyes narrowing, "Saitama is not here, Metal Bat. Please leave us."  
"Bull!" Badd hollered, a vein beginning to pulse on his forehead, "yer 'is disciple, Demon Cyborg!"  
Then he stopped, glancing up. "Wha's goin' on?"  
His eyes roamed from Bang to Genos, from Mumen to Sonic and back again, confusion evident amidst the other emotions warring on his face. "Why're y'all here?"  
"Mister Saitama truly is not here," Bang said, placing a hand on Badd's shoulder.  
Badd's eyes dropped to the floor before darting to Genos, his tone lowering to pleading. "Genos. He's _hurt_ people. _Killed_ them. How can y'continue to protect 'im? How can _any_ of y'all continue t'protect 'im?!"  
"It wasn't his fault," Genos said quietly. Mumen nodded.  
"I don' care whose fault it is!" Badd exploded, smacking his bat against the floor, splintering the wood. Bang furrowed his eyebrows but otherwise remained silent. "He turned Garou into a veggie! He don't even know 'is own name anymore."  
Tears sprang to his eyes and his shoulders sagged as if a heavy weight rested on his shoulders. The tip of his bat, held loosely in trembling hands, rested against the floor.  
"Badd-" Mumen started, but Bang cut in.  
"You are injured. Do not overwork yourself," the old man said gently, "go home, Badd. _Rest."_  
"Geddoff my back!" Badd snarled, suddenly furious again. He straightened. "If none of ya will tell me where 'e is, I'll find 'im and kill 'im myself."  
He stomped towards the doors, yanked them open, and disappeared into the night.


	5. Chapter 5

_Now._

It was somewhat of a dream to him.  
Sure, he remembered the path that led to hands around throats, that resulted in a man wasting away in a hospital, but it was mostly a blurry, chaotic mess.  
He'd unleashed _rage._ Rage against those who dared call him _weak (IamnotweakIAMTHESTRONGESTMAN)._ He'd leveled a city without effort, and they finally _saw_ him.  
The Hero Association named him "Caped Malevolence," and called him an "S-Class Villain." Originally, he'd wanted to take the title and shove it back in their pathetic, overpaid faces but, honestly, it felt good to finally get the recognition he deserved.  
Tonight, however, he had no interest in being seen. Tonight, instead of his uniform, he wore shorts, sneakers, and his favorite _Oppai_ sweatshirt. He kept his hood up and his head down as he traversed the lamp-lit streets of City Z. The apartment that he and Genos _(IwillriphisprettythroatoutHEISMINE)_ once shared was only two blocks away now, but he hurried nonetheless. He didn't feel inclined to stain the streets with the blood of anyone he happened to bump into tonight. It wouldn't do to have the police or the Association up his ass.  
The very thought of the Association send through him shocks of tingling fury _(breakthemkillthemTEARTHEMAPART)_ that he'd become all too familiar with in the past months, but he tamped it down and kept on going, strolling along as if he had not a care in the world.  
Except his hood was up, his head was down, and he "strolled" much faster than a regular human could.  
When he reached the apartment building, he glanced up to see that the windows of his former residence were dark.  
This was not unusual: he had found that, while Genos rarely did what he called "sleep" anymore, he did prefer the lights off.  
With a single, smooth leap he was perched on the balcony, peering inside.  
Genos wasn't there. 

0o0o0o0 

Genos began to get fidget-y as the hands of the clock on the dojo wall approached ten, reached it, then slowly crept past it.  
He wouldn't like it if Genos wasn't there.  
He might even come looking-  
"Genos?" Mumen said from his seat on a cushion, a slumbering Sonic's head in his lap. "Are you okay?"  
Genos nodded, too quickly. "I am fine. Just tired."  
Not far from the truth. He found himself with a perpetual, core-deep weariness these days.  
"Oh." Mumen's eyebrows furrowed with concern, "perhaps you should go home and rest?"  
Genos stood. "You are right."  
He turned to Bang, "the case will be safer with you than it will be with me. I will return for it tomorrow."  
The old man narrowed his eyes, but nodded all the same.  
With a bow and a mumbled goodnight, the cyborg left, breaking into a sprint as soon as the doors closed behind him, taking the stairs five at a time, flames bursting from his shoulders and palms, helping him gain speed.  
He was almost at the bottom- and fervently thanking Doctor Kuseno for modifying him to be one hundred times faster than a normal human- when he spotted a figure, silhouetted in the harsh yellow of a street lamp.  
And holding a shiny silver bat.  
Unfortunately for Genos, Class-S hero Metal Bat was also quicker than the average human, and as Genos tried to frantically slow down before reaching the bottom, the bat whipped out and caught Genos in the face.  
He went down without a sound, circuitry fizzing and popping from the sheer force of the blow. He convulsed once, twice, went still.  
Genos' eyes went dark as he shut down. 

0o0o0o0  
_Three months prior._

Saitama woke up to something warm in his arms.  
That something whirred gently and as he woke up a bit more he found his face buried in hair.  
_Blond_ hair.  
_Genos?!_  
Saitama stiffened, and Genos shifted. He forced himself to relax, his heart and mind racing.  
What were they _doing_ last night?  
A quick investigation showed he was still clothed, albeit in a thin gown. _What?_  
But his arms were wrapped tightly around the cyborg, their bodies pressed close.  
It felt good. It felt _right._  
Saitama knew it was wrong.  
As good as it felt, Genos was not his. Saitama's feelings were not reciprocated. He was not allowed to kiss, to love, to touch.  
So he extracted himself carefully from the pile of limbs and blankets, face a flaming red while he prayed to the universe that Genos would not wake up.  
He didn't, and Saitama was able to roll backwards, off the futon, avoiding his table in the process.  
He got to his feet as quietly as he could, and noticed Genos' journal, lying open on the floor.  
He knelt and picked it up, fumbling clumsily with the pages. 

__Saitama-sensei is truly a hero of the greatest kind. He risked his life to once again vanquish a monster that was destroying City Q.  
I wish to someday be as strong as him._ _

Saitama skimmed down the page.  
Genos praising him, noting his supposed "teachings" . . . yada, yada, yada. . . he reached the bottom of the page. 

__During today's battle, Master was gravely injured. This has never happened before. I am worried about him, as he was left unable to use his hands.  
What if they have been permanently damaged? What is Saitama without his powers?_ _

__What am I without my powers?__  
_Nothing._  
Saitama set the journal down, back where it was, and reached for his hero uniform.  
Then, silently, he left. 

0o0o0o0 

Genos woke up alone.  
He was a little disoriented at first, but as his systems booted up and the static cleared from his vision he caught a glimpse of white cape disappearing down the hallway and he sat up. "Sensei?"  
His master must not have heard him because the door opened and closed.  
Genos sat there, confused. Saitama-sensei wasn't usually up before him, and on the rare occasion he was, he always, always, always said good morning and waited for the cyborg so they could eat breakfast and head out together.  
He furrowed his brow. _Did I do something wrong?_  
He tossed the covers aside and was about to get up for the day when he noticed his journal.  
A quick scan confirmed his suspicions: it had been moved. Saitama had read it.  
Everything from the previous twenty-four hours came flooding back, and heat rushed to his face as Genos recalled how they'd fallen asleep together.  
Then, the heat faded. _Is Saitama-sensei ashamed?_  
Sensei had said in the past how he wasn't interested in dudes but Genos had seen how his mentor looked at him in the past few months. How their casual touches had turned to ones that lingered just a moment too long.  
Or maybe he'd imagined it.  
Genos picked up his journal and smoothed out the pages, then closed it and got up to put it away, feeling very, very alone. 


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Metal Bat has kidnapped Genos! What is his evil plot?
> 
> Two months previously, Saitama appears at Genos' window for the first time of many.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Short chapter again, guys! I had graduation this past weekend and absolutely NOOOO time/inspiration since.  
> The writer's block is REAL.

_Two Months Prior._

The first time Saitama appeared on the balcony of their apartment, Genos was overjoyed.  
"Master!" He cried, lunging up from his spot at the table and throwing open the glass door, face alight in a rare smile.  
His Sensei didn't say a word. He merely perched on the edge of the balcony like a cat, staring at him with an expression that Genos couldn't identify.   
His happiness quickly turned to confusion.  
"Where have you been?" Genos asked, his smile slipping away. "Why haven't you come home?"  
Saitama didn't reply, but his expression shifted and he got down from the edge of the balcony and approached.  
"Genos," he said softly, glancing up, leaning so that their noses were barely two inches apart.  
"Yes, Sensei?" Genos felt himself heating up, his biolights glowing brighter. A little bit of steam escaped his mouth as Saitama reached up to cup his face, thumb caressing the smooth artificial skin.  
"Do you care for me, Genos?" Saitama spoke in barely a whisper.  
"Of-of course I do, Sensei." _Is that even a question?_  
The bald man's eyes hardened and he came even closer still, their lips brushing, just a little bit. "Do you _care_ for me, Genos?"  
Genos swallowed and, when he opened his mouth, his eyes darted to Saitama's lips. "I. . . yes. I do, Sensei."  
"Good." Saitama closed the remaining distance between them and kissed him.  
It was rough. It was possessive. It was desperate. It needed something from him.  
And Genos provided it.  
His hands came up to cup his mentor's face as they stumbled back into the apartment. Neither of them bothered to close the glass door.

0o0o0o0o0  
 _Now._

Sensation crept back to him gradually. If he was honest, Genos really wished it hadn't come back at all.  
He could tell, even trapped in the haze of semi-consciousness as he was, that his body had sustained serious damage.   
Genos tested out his fingers and his toes. _Good. No limbs missing._  
His hands did seemed to be tied behind his back. _Am I in a chair?_  
His head ached, and it lolled against his chest, his jaw hanging open. His best guess was, when he was knocked out (a difficult task in itself), the blow must have broken his neck.  
And he couldn't see. No static, nothing. Just the red, blinking light of his proximity sensor.  
He didn't know which was worse: the broken neck and jaw, or the blindness.  
 _Being blind,_ he supposed, _I will have more of a disadvantage during a battle without my sight. At least I can still fight with a broken neck._  
Then he remembered that his proximity sensor was going off.   
There was someone close. _Very_ close.  
 _My attacker?_   
Only one way to find out.  
Genos sucked in a breath, tasting the stale air and faintest traces of chemicals that whistled through cracked artificial teeth and over twisting, sparking circuitry.  
"HhhhhhhH-heeEe-EEe-EEeeee-e-E-"  
The half-word came out distorted and broken, like a broken radio or the moan of a dying man.  
"Oh, awake are ya?"  
The voice was familiar, but Genos couldn't pinpoint it.   
So he sat still and silent, and he waited.  
The unidentified person growled, "wonderin' why yer here, Genos? Funny, cause ah'm wonderin' the same thin'."  
Metal Bat, Genos realized. His assailant-and probable kidnapper, if his last, fuzzy memories of consciousness were to be believed- was Metal Bat. The Class-S hero.  
"E-EEEEEeeee-eeEh-hHH-"  
"Save yer breath!" Metal Bat snapped, jabbing Genos' chest with his bat. "Yer gonna need it."  
There was a pause, then the S-Class laughed. "Oh, _shit,_ I forgot! Ya can't see, can ya?"  
Genos stiffened as a rough hand pawed at his eyes and suddenly he could _see._ Data flooded in as he took stock of his surroundings, even with his vision warping in and out and the oil dripping down his cheeks. Even then, he stared Metal Bat down and imagined how delightful it would feel when he finally broke free of his bonds and set the Class-S hero on fire.  
"I wantcha t' _watch_ as I kill him," Metal Bat smirked, placing two fingers under Genos' chin and tilted the cyborg's head up, forcing him to make eye contact. "I know he'll come fer ya. He always does."  
Metal Bat lowered his voice and spoke in a conspiratorial whisper. "Ya see, I know what you two do in th'dark."

0o0o0o0o0  
 _Two Months Prior._

Somehow they ended up on the futon.  
Genos wasn't sure how-did they trip and fall over something? He had made sure to keep the apartment tidy while his Master had been gone- but they'd ended up there, with Genos on his back and Saitama straddling his waist, wrestling the cyborg's sweatshirt off, then his own. Both garments may have been ripped in the process, but Genos could not have cared less.   
He was too busy allowing his lips to roam up Saitama's neck, little bursts of steam escaping from his mouth and the backs of his arms with each gasping kiss.  
"Gen. . .Genos. ." Saitama moaned softly. He turned his head, capturing Genos' lips in a passionate kiss. His hands that, moments before, were brushing against the biolights on Genos' stomach, now dipped lower, caressing edges and dips and wires.  
Genos arched his back as thin fingers managed to tweak a particularly sensitive cluster of circuitry. He couldn't help but blush. He felt. . bad, really. He didn't have much to offer in the way of human pleasure. Where male parts should've been-and used to be- there was nothing.  
But he relished it anyway, because who cared where Saitama-sensei had been for the past few weeks? He was here now, and here he would stay. It would be okay.  
Little did Genos know, he was very, very wrong.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Saitama and Genos face off with Stinger in City C.
> 
> Saitama and Genos reflect (respectively) while Metal Bat runs around causing trouble.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm on the fence about this format, but let's try it out.  
> If you don't like it, shoot me a message. Or if you do, shoot me a message lol.

_Two Months Prior._

 

Genos woke up alone. He sat up, blond hair sticking up every which way, and quickly noticed that he had no clothes on.

The second thing he noticed were the tiny, finger-shaped dents present all over his body, and that they seemed to be concentrated around his hips and. . . the area between. This caused a wild blush. 

The third thing he noticed was his Sensei, perched cross-legged on the table with a manga on one knee, the television remote on the other. 

He wore only a pair of boxers- white with tiny pineapples. He'd found them on sale for a really great price- and a white tank-top that was form-fitting, outlining lean, chiseled muscles that signified the strength that Saitama-sensei had worked so hard to gain. 

Genos painstakingly tore his eyes away from his Master and glanced at the television, which was turned to the news.

_As always._

Genos got up and went about preparing coffee and breakfast, keeping one eye on the trim, dark-haired news anchor who was discussing the increase in monster appearances all around the world.

"And alongside the sharp incline of monster sightings, the Hero Association is issuing a warning: there has also been an increased in criminal activities. Citizens are encouraged to remain indoors after eight p.m and to never go anywhere alone."

Genos glanced up at the screen periodically as he fried eggs and chopped vegetables and brewed coffee, but the images that flashed across the screen of "criminal activities" made him freeze.

They were of his Sensei.

The first was a picture of "Caped Baldy" that was featured on the Hero Association's website. 

The next one was different. Instead of a benign smile towards the camera, Caped Baldy stood over the gory splatters of a corpse, his fists soaked in blood.

His face was a mask of rage, of a level of hurt that could only be attained by being kicked around and spat on two too many times.

It was so unlike the man that Genos had come to know that he couldn't help but gasp. 

As the last image appeared onscreen, Genos averted his eyes, mind racing, eggs forgotten and beginning to burn around the edges.

Meanwhile, the news anchor continued her report. "Class C Hero Tank-Top Tiger and Class B Hero Tank-Top Blackhole were discovered dead by passerby two nights ago, their bodies mutilated almost beyond recognition. The alleged murderer, Class B Hero Caped Baldy, is still at large."

Saitama, throughout all this, had not spoken. He sat as still as a statue, and from his position in the kitchen Genos could not see his Sensei's reaction to such outrageous accusations.

"I will look into whoever is spreading these wicked rumors and false pictures." Genos growled, untying his apron and preparing to dart out the door as soon as Saitama gave the word. 

"No," Saitama croaked, "don't do that, Genos."

"Why not?! They're accusing you of _murder,_ Sensei!" Genos threw down his spatula and stormed into the living room, dismayed.

Saitama didn't turn around. His shoulders shuddered and he buried his head in quivering hands. "I did it, Genos."

"What did you do?" Genos crossed the tiny room in two short strides, standing directly behind Saitama. "Sensei! _What did you do?"_

He placed a hand on Saitama's shoulder, but the hero slapped it away.

"Get your hands off me!" He hissed.

Genos took a step back, hurt flickering across his features before it disappeared behind his usual stoic mask. "Sensei . . ."

"I, I was so _angry_ . . . It was like I couldn't control myself." Saitama's voice lowered to a hoarse whisper. "I killed them."

He turned to face Genos suddenly, his dark eyes like chips of obsidian. "I killed them! Is that what you want me to say?"

"Sensei-"

"I splattered them all over the pavement, Genos, and I _liked_ it. I was so angry, and they _deserved_ it." Saitama sighed bitterly, "I barely remember anything from the other night, but I remember that."

He glanced down at his hands, which were stiff from the injury he received weeks ago. "There's something wrong with me, Genos, and it's getting worse."

Genos wasn't sure how to respond. He wasn't even sure how to _begin._

With what had happened between them last night?

What about what Saitama had done the night before?

Or where his master had been during the last two and a half weeks, when he'd gone out for a sale and hadn't returned?

"Sensei . . ." He started, but the news anchor, who was still reporting, cut him off.

"Breaking news! Class A Hero Stinger, after not showing his face for a month, is now facing off against several Class C and B heroes in City C."

"Should we go?" Genos asked, secretly hating himself for posing the question. They needed to talk, and going after a rogue hero was not the way to accomplish that. 

To his chagrin, Saitama got up from the table, nodding. "Let's go."

 

0o0o0o0o0

 

Clouds had begun to gather, blocking out even the tiniest, most determined patches of blue. 

By the time Saitama and Genos reached City C, the sky was dark and gloomy and it'd started to downpour, raindrops hammering down onto roads and rooftops in perfect harmony with the thunder rumbling overhead.

They followed the trail of carnage, of ruined buildings, of broken, bloody bodies.

"This is not right," Genos said, "Stinger is not supposed to be this powerful."

Saitama glanced at him but otherwise said nothing.

They ran on, towards the shouting and the screaming. 

But when they got there, it was silent. Many other heroes had already fallen.

Mumen Rider lay unconscious, half-buried in rubble, his bicycle bent and broken. A few feet away sprawled Lightning Max, his sneakers missing. Blue Fire after that, missing an arm, a gigantic hole in his torso. The Class A Hero's eyes were wide, shocked and glassy and never-again-seeing.

And at the center of it all, stood Stinger. His bodysuit was torn and bloody, vicious scratches covering every inch of exposed skin. Yet, Stinger wore a big smile.

As they grew closer, slowing to a walk, Genos could see that it wasn't a happy smile. It was the grimace of a madman. 

"Come to partake?" Stinger laughed, twirling his spear above his head.

"We just want to talk." Genos said firmly, glancing at Saitama.

His Master was tense, his fists balled, jaw clenched.

At the sight of him, Genos' only thought was: _this will not end well._

 

0o0o0o0o0

_Now._

 

Saitama waited ten minutes.

Ten minutes stretched into twenty. Then into thirty. Then into an hour.

_Where is he?_

The T.V held no interest for him, so the screen remained dark. Neither manga or food caught his eye. His entire being was focused on Genos.

He didn't have _time_ for hunger or boredom.

He needed Genos. He needed the one who still believed so fervently that his Master wasn't truly evil. Wasn't truly dead and gone.

Besides, Genos was his sole connection to the Hero Association.

Saitama would need Genos on his side if the Hero Association were to fall. 

At least that's what he told himself. 

Saitama clenched his fists, fighting the now-familiar, perpetual stiffness of his fingers.

The Hero Association would go down in flames. 

Violent, bloody, screaming flames, for daring to call him _weak_ ( _IamnotweakIAMSTRONGIWILLTEARTHEMTOPIECES_ ).

But not without Genos. And he would do it far better than Stinger ( _thatfool_ ), all those months ago, ever could.

Pathetic, weak, Class A Stinger, gone mad from what he couldn't master.

Saitama had mastered it. Made it his own. Whatever that monster, that day in the city, had given them, he'd taken it and made himself better.

Poor Stinger. At least he'd died quickly.

Yes, the Hero Association would _pay._

But not without Genos.

The hands of the apartment's sole clock reached midnight, then gradually crept past it. And still, no Genos. 

And still, Saitama waited.

Until he happened to glance out the window. 

There, under a flickering street lamp, City Z was a ghost town, after all, not exactly high on any maintenance list, stood a figure.

Slung over one of the figure's shoulders was a shiny, silver bat.

The figure held out one hand and, using two fingers, made a "come at me" gesture.

Saitama was out the door in less than a second.

 

0o0o0o0o0

_Now._

 

Genos had no idea how long he sat there, tied to that chair.

It could've been minutes, hours, days even.

He'd tried to break his bonds, to no avail.

The damage to his systems made coherent movement difficult, and no matter how much he flailed or shot random bursts of flames from his palms, his ties did not break.

Clearly, Metal Bat had done his homework on Genos' strength.

Or he'd gotten lucky and hit Genos right where it counted.

Either way, Genos wasn't getting out of there anytime soon.

Speaking of . . . _where am I?_

His surroundings were dark and the air was stale and still. Clearly this place had not seen sunlight or fresh air for a long, long time.

_Am I underground? How will anyone find me here?_

Then he remembered what Metal Bat had said: _"He will come for you. He always does."_

Metal Bat was planning to lure Saitama out. Where he would attempt- and pay for that attempt in the biggest way possible- to kill him.

Genos was not afraid for Saitama's life. On the contrary: the cyborg knew that Saitama could come out unscathed from anything Metal Bat could throw at him.

No. Saitama had proved that, by sparing Genos and Sonic earlier that night (it already felt like so long ago now) that he still retained a shred of his kindness and humanity.

When he killed, he lost some of that humanity. 

The more he killed, the more he lost and the closer to a true monster he became.

Genos did not want to see his beloved master become unrecognizable. He did not want to have to try and kill him.

Genos loved him too much for that.


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Genos escapes.
> 
> Saitama and Metal Bat face off.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for posting so late today! I've been busy ha ha. Enjoy!

_Now._

Something hit the ground above him.  
Then again. And again, and again, and against  
 _Is it Master?_ Genos couldn't help but hope.  
His broken neck made it impossible to glance upwards and run a scan so he couldn't be sure.  
Then he realized: if it was Saitama up there, then he'd already be free, as Saitama would've demolished whatever lay between the surface and Genos with a single punch.  
 _Is it a monster?_ The rumbling grew louder and louder, crescendoing into an unending roar.  
The ground shook under Genos' feet and, out of the corner of his eye, he saw a chunk of concrete clatter to the ground.  
More debris followed.  
Genos grunted as a heavy lump hit him on the back of his already damaged neck.  
Anger surged through him, complementing the churning wave of dread. He might be buried alive before anyone could rescue him.  
 _If I survive this, Metal Bat is dead._  
Suddenly he was struck from behind.   
Whatever it was knocked his chair over and Genos yelped as his head cracked against the ground.   
And then- he was free.  
Genos wrenched his arms out from under him, struggling to get to his feet. He nearly fell again due to the waves of dizziness and nausea that hit him like a train. His night vision was nonfunctional. His normal vision was filled with static and several lights flashed at the corners of it.  
Needless to say, if he didn't get out soon, he wouldn't be getting out at all.  
He stumbled along blindly, arms held out in front of him in a Frankenstein-esque fashion, searching for anything. _Anything_ he could use to save himself.  
He found a wall, and pressed himself against it in a desperate attempt to shield himself from the cascading dust and debris. It worked for the few moments it lasted, for the few moments he had before something grabbed him from behind and dragged him out into the harsh, cold air.   
It stung: the iron-tight grip around his waist, the rush of frigid air over circuitry that shouldn't ever see the light of day, and then it _hurt._ He was dropped to the ground without warning.   
Genos scrabbled for a hold as the ground crumbled away beneath him, threatening to deposit him back in the hole he'd been dragged out of, fighting the searing agony in every circuit of his mechanical body and the blue blinking light in the corner of his right eye that signaled _emergency shutdown imminent._  
 _Where am I?!_ He heard an ear-splitting roar.  
 _A monster!_ Genos labored up the last few feet to solid ground and rolled onto his back, gasping and exhausted, just as a massive tail whipped just inches over his face.  
Genos propped himself up on one arm and raised the other shakily, gathering enough of his last few shreds of energy to shoot a burst of flame at the huge, blurry shape that loomed above.  
He could tell his aim held true: the monster screeched furiously.  
It's massive head appeared just above Genos. It had wicked, gnarled horns sprouting from its head, and appeared to be similar to a dragon, with huge, triangular scales and wicked, razor-sharp claws that looked as if they could slice through a person without effort.   
Not to mention it's yellow, glowing eyes, all six of which were fixed on Genos.  
 _Its scales are fireproof,_ Genos realized with a jolt.  
Dread filled him and he quickly forced himself to his feet, diving away just before the claws came down, dashing crater-sized holes in the asphalt where Genos had been just moments before.  
 _It would've killed me._ Genos hurled more flames at the monster as he dived and rolled and ran to avoid its claws and it's long, snake-like tail. His flames had no effect. On the contrary: it only seemed to make this creature angrier and it took from Genos' waning stores of energy even more.  
"Look! Demon Cyborg has taken on the monster!"  
 _Civilians?!_  
The monster swung its head around, distracted by the people who had gathered, escaped from its rampage. It's roar shook the surroundings.   
"GggggGO-OOOoo . . !" Genos shouted as loudly as his failing body would let him. He took off towards the huddled group of people.   
_They have to get out of here. I am not going to win this battle. The monster will slaughter them-_  
The creature reared back its head, mouth beginning to glow a brilliant, bright red-orange.   
Terrified cries arose among the citizens and they broke apart, scattering in all different directions but it was already too late.   
Genos lunged forward, covering the distance between him and the innocent bystanders just in time.  
He didn't make a sound as a whirlwind of flames engulfed his body.

0o0o0o0o0  
 _Now._

"Where is he?" When Saitama got outside he made a beeline for Metal Bat, seizing him and slamming him against the lamppost.  
The S-Class hero didn't flinch, while the lamppost buckled and fell, lamp shattering as it hit the ground. There was a shower of sparks, and the isolated little street was plunged into darkness.  
"Where is Genos?!" Saitama demanded, drawing back his fist.  
A vein began to pulse on Metal Bat's forehead but despite this he wore a calm smile. His teeth were a vivid white against the dim. "Wouldn'tcha like ta know?"  
Then he wrenched himself backwards- shirt tearing due to Saitama's grip- and then lunged forward, bringing his bat upwards, then down for a devastating blow to Saitama's head.  
Except, it wasn't devastating.  
Even as a shockwave rippled outwards, the villain didn't move.  
Not an inch.  
Metal Bat hit him again, harder this time, disbelief warring with the rage on his face.  
Saitama straightened, and even in a sweatshirt and shorts he was terrifying.  
"I bet you thought I was weak, huh?" His voice was soft and raspy from damage done to his vocal cords in a battle long past, but to Metal Bat, he might've been yelling.  
Metal Bat gave a shout and swung his bat again, going low for a torso hit. On any other person- even most Class-S heroes- his blows would snap ribs and rupture internal organs.  
It didn't do a thing to Caped Malevolence, except maybe to piss him off even further.  
Metal Bat supposed he should've registered Saitama's enormous strength and practical invincibility.  
Terrible Tornado had been slaughtered by this guy, after all. And Garou . . . Garou hadn't even been able to fight back.  
Even with this knowledge, he kept hitting Saitama. Again and again and again until he was covered in sweat and panting and snot mingled with the tears dripping down his face.  
"Just . . . _die!"_ He screamed, managing one last futile blow before dropping his bat and falling to his knees. "Die! Why can'tcha just . . . _be okay, Garou?!"_  
The S-Class hero bowed his head, shoulders shaking violently with sobs. "I needja. I needja _here_ with _me._ I needja ta be _okay."_  
Saitama glanced down at this broken-hearted man, who wasn't even really a man. Metal Bat was only seventeen.  
Younger than Saitama. Than Genos, even.   
Saitama watched this fractured kid weep on his knees at his feet and all he could think was: _how pathetic._  
All he could feel was _nothing._  
He had taken Genos, after all.  
"Where is Genos?" He asked again. But before Metal Bat could reply, a frantic voice came over the city's intercoms.  
"Attention! A monster has appeared on the fringes of City Z! Threat Level Demon! All citizens must remain inside until further notice! A Class-S hero has engaged!"  
"That's where Genos is," Metal Bat mumbled.   
"Good." Saitama said, smiling sweetly and stooping down. He patted Metal Bat on top of his head and smoothed away a few sweat-coated strands of black hair from the hero's face. He was gentle, almost loving in his touch.   
And when Metal Bat looked up, his eyes were shiny with tears. But there was confusion there, too. And hatred. And a deep, unshakable rage.  
Saitama didn't punch him that hard. Maybe Metal Bat would have some use to him later, when it counted.  
But first he had to find Genos and ensure his safety.  
Saitama stepped over the sprawled body of Metal Bat- taking care to nudge his bat safely out of reach, even though Saitama's Punch should guarantee a trip to the Hero Association hospital in City A- and took off in a dead sprint towards the monster. And therefore, Genos.  
\---  
Saitama knew when he was getting close. The monster's roars shook the still air and the occasional gust of flame- Saitama assumed, at first, that it was Genos, fighting the monster- illuminated the dark.  
But there was also the sudden abundance of blackened, charred corpses.  
 _Genos didn't do this._  
Genos would never- even unintentionally- harm bystanders.   
Saitama quickened his pace, eyes roaming the figures lying on the street.  
If the monster was the source of the fire, that meant that Genos was out of commission.   
Maybe dead.


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stinger and Genos fight.
> 
> Saitama rescues Genos.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the late chapter today! Today was packed.  
> No chapter next week! I have so many things to do. Chapter 10 will be posted two weeks from today and our weekly schedule will continue from there.

_Two Months Prior._

"Why are you acting like this?" Genos asked, trying to sound as calm and reasonable as possible. It wasn't easy when, right next to him, Saitama was about to blow a fuse. "Why are you murdering people? Why are you murdering _heroes?"_   
Stinger didn't answer. His smile only grew wider and he swung his spear around to point it at Saitama.  
"You feel it too, don't you?"  
"Feel what?" Saitama retorted.  
"The rage." Stingers eyes shone, his nostrils flared. "The _power."_  
He tipped his head back and laughed, "you were infected by that monster too. I _saw_ you in the hospital. You beat down the Hero Hunter like he was _nothing._ The _gift_ that that monster gave us, you've got it too."  
Genos looked over to his master. Obviously, Stinger had gone stark, raving mad. Had Saitama-sensei come to the same conclusion?   
He must have, surely.  
His gaze snapped back to Stinger, who was gesturing grandly with his spear in one hand, scratching viciously at his chest with the other.   
"We have the strength of _ten_ Class-S heroes!" Stinger crowed, "together, you and I, we could rule the world!"  
"Why would you want to do that?" Genos demanded at the same time that Saitama stepped forward.  
"Having super strength is very boring." The edge to his voice could've cut steel, but Stinger didn't seem to notice, or maybe he didn't care.  
He leaned forward, using his spear as a prop. "I dunno . . ." He gestured around at the destruction, at the mayhem, at the death. "Does this look _boring_ to you?"  
"Let me at him," Genos murmured, casting a sideways glance at his sensei, "he is a danger to himself and to others."  
Saitama nodded, jaw tightening. "He is beneath me. Take him."  
Genos didn't pause to ponder the oddity of Saitama's response. He flew forward, flames jetting from his shoulders, fist jerking back in preparation for a punch.  
Stinger merely stepped aside, moving so quickly that he was nothing but a dark gray blur.  
Genos growled and swung himself around, leaving ragged marks in the asphalt with the force of his movements. He launched himself at Stinger again, shooting bursts of fire from his palms.  
He moved fast, almost faster than Stinger had.  
But not fast enough.  
Stinger's manic grin stretched across his face as he brandished his spear and, as Genos got closer, he jammed it into the cyborg's shoulder, tearing his arm from its socket with the earsplitting sound of tearing metal and a cascade of sparks.  
"Some Class-S hero!" Stinger gloated, giving his spear a casual flick. The severed arm was tossed aside carelessly. "I know Class-C heroes who are stronger than you!"  
The Class-A hero's eyes fluttered as he wrenched off Genos' other arm. "I am stronger than you."  
Without missing a beat, Genos roundhouse kicked him, sending Stinger flying, blood spraying from a broken nose. _"Wrong."_  
The cyborg flashed forward, and was about to land another vicious kick, but this time, Stinger was ready.  
In a blur of movement he was on his feet, spear at the ready.   
Then, with a triumphant shout, Stinger drove it into Genos' chest.

0o0o0o0o0  
 _Now._

Suddenly a hand snatched Saitama's ankle.   
Startled, Saitama gave a shout as he tripped and went down, smacking his nose on the crumbling pavement. His shirt was in worse shape: his brief skirmish- he refused to call it a fight. It wasn't a fight- had left his favorite yellow shirt, emblazoned with _Oppai,_ torn and riddled with holes. His fall just now had deposited him in a pile of bloody, clotted ash.   
"Ssss-EE-eee-nnn . . . SsSSEEeeii . . ." The voice made him reconsider the act of ripping the arm from its socket in retribution for tripping him.   
"Genos!" Saitama rolled over and got to his feet.   
"Ssss-EE-ee-nnNNN . . . SSeeeEeiii . . ." The distorted word came from what had, at first sight, appeared to be a pile of scorched debris and ash.  
Saitama knelt, pulling what remained of his former disciple from the wreckage, sighing dramatically as he did so. "This is my favorite shirt, Genos."  
He received only a low moan in response.   
"Let's get you to Doctor Kuseno."  
A roar shook the air, nearby and coming closer.  
"I do not have time for this," Saitama snarled, glancing over his shoulder as the monster thundered into view, leaving a path of chaos in its wake. "And besides, I don't care."  
Then he disappeared.  
\---  
Genos didn't know how he'd managed to grab hold of Saitama's ankle when he was as fast as he was. Part of him chalked it up to dumb luck. But in the last alert part of his mind, the last teeny tiny portion that wasn't reeling from shock, he was thankful he had.   
Once again, without Saitama, he'd be dead.   
_Without Saitama, I am nothing._  
He could feel himself being carried. He felt safe, protected. Nothing more could happen to him now.   
He could also hear Saitama muttering to himself.  
"Foolish, foolish, foolish! You should know better. You should've waited for me before trying to fight that thing. You're not strong enough."  
The person speaking could not be his sensei. Saitama-sensei was kind. He had not a mean bone in his body and he never, ever told Genos he wasn't strong enough.   
Moreover, he wasn't _angry._ this person who was Sensei-not-Sensei was obviously furious. The polar opposite of Saitama's apathetic, blank-faced self.  
"Sss-EeeeennNnn-NNNssSSSEEEiii . . ."  
"Shush!" Saitama snapped, "we'll be at Doctor Kuseno's soon. Just be quiet!"  
Genos didn't have time to do as he was told: he'd already sunk into the abyss of unconsciousness.  
\---  
Saitama stared down at Genos as he ran.   
The cyborg had passed out- shut down, powered down, whatever- in his arms. His head lolled against Saitama's shoulder, wires sticking out of his neck at weird angles that really shouldn't have been sticking out of his neck at weird angles, and his jaw gaping open loosely.   
Genos was in bad shape. Whatever Metal Bat had done to him needed to be fixed. Soon.  
Luckily, Saitama was the fastest man alive.  
They reached Doctor Kuseno's lab in mere minutes, Saitama ramming the doors off their hinges in his haste.   
"Mister Saitama!" The old man yelped, scrabbling to brush aside a stack of papers and notebooks. "To what do I owe the pleasure? Is . . . Is that Genos?!"  
"Fix him." Saitama crossed the room, offering his arms full of Genos to the doctor.  
Doctor Kuseno's knees buckled under the weight of the cyborg but he managed to reach a long, slanted table and he lay Genos down carefully on it. "You could have a seat in my residence and wait if you'd like-"  
"No!" Saitama snapped, fixing the doctor with a venomous glare. "I stay."  
"Very well. I must warn you, it won't be pretty." Doctor Kuseno retrieved some tools from a drawer labeled "repair" and placed them onto a silver tray. "Let's begin."


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Saitama rescues an injured Genos, both past and present.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Every Wednesday now again guys! Thanks for your patience I have been very busy.

_Now._

He drifted in an ocean of nothingness. It felt . . . odd. To be in nothing, to _be_ nothing and yet to have so many _things_ attacking him from all sides at the same time.  
But above the fray, one, single thought stood out, again and again.  
 _Metal Bat. Metal Bat. Metal Bat._  
What did these two words mean?  
Occasionally, he would breach the surface and sensation would sweep over him in waves.  
When this happened, he could pick up what was going on around him.  
Mostly it was the gentle whir of machinery and the feeling of his body being poked and prodded, but sometimes it was snatches of conversation.  
"When will he wake up?"  
"When his systems reboot fully. It will take some time."  
It was mostly variations of these sentences. But finally:  
"What the hell is this?! Were you going to try to _fix_ me?!"  
"Mister Saitama . . ."  
A crash. The sound of glass shattering. "I do not _need to be fixed!"_  
A yelp. Then strained, desperate words. "It was Genos' idea. He-he requested this of me."   
A pause. Then, quieter: "he loves you, you know."  
"I know that, you old fool." The words were fired back with a venom that was impossible to comprehend.  
He tried to open his eyes, to move, but he only managed faint twitches of his fingers and eyelids. He felt himself slipping back into the comfortable nothingness of unconsciousness, but he fought to get feeling back into his numb limbs.  
"I just do not care."  
After that, silence. Not even the whir of machinery could be heard any longer.  
Genos opened his eyes.  
There was only him and Doctor Kuseno in the laboratory.  
The lab was in ruins, machinery destroyed and shreds of paper fluttering about the room like snow.  
When Genos finally found his voice, it was hoarse and almost foreign-sounding, barely more than a whisper. "What happened, Doctor Kuseno?"  
"Oh! Genos." The Doctor glanced up. "You're awake."  
"What happened?" Genos demanded, voice growing stronger.  
"It is none of your concern." Doctor Kuseno moved towards him, fiddling with a few buttons until the wires attached to Genos detached themselves and retracted can allowing the cyborg freedom of movement. "Let's get you down from there."  
Genos sat up, ignoring the sudden onset of dizziness, brows furrowing, the answer dawning on him. "It was Saitama. Why was he here?"  
"He brought you here. He stayed with you while I repaired you." Doctor Kuseno helped Genos down from the operating table. "He . . . discovered our plans to cure him."  
"Then we must accelerate them." Genos started towards the door. "I must hurry back to the city."  
"Wait!" Doctor Kuseno grabbed at Genos' wrist. "You cannot go."  
"Why?!" Genos kept going, dragging the flustered old man along with him. "Saitama must be stopped before he destroys the world as we know it."  
"I do not believe you want to stop Saitama to save the millions of people he will no doubt slaughter."  
Genos stopped. "What do you mean?"  
"I think . . ." Doctor Kuseno paused, "I think you want to save him because you love him."   
Another pause. Then Doctor Kuseno released Genos' wrist. "Don't be selfish, Genos. Saitama has murdered innocent people. If you manage to cure him, will he thank you for it?"  
Genos scowled, but the doctor continued before he could interject.  
"You may not be able to stop him. He may not be able, or want for that matter, to be saved." Doctor Kuseno pulled something from his lab coat pocket and pressed it into Genos' hand.  
The cyborg glanced down at the small, seemingly innocent object in his hand. It was a syringe filled with fluorescent green liquid. "What is this? Why are you giving me this?"  
"I hid it from Saitama. It is a lethal serum that will first take away his strength, and then, if enough is administered, his life." He nodded at the syringe. "That is enough for two fatal doses."  
"I will not need this-" Genos started, growing angry, but Doctor Kuseno kept talking as if he hadn't heard.  
"Not everyone can be saved, Genos. I trust you will do the right thing. Saitama, and everyone in this world, will thank you for it."  
With that, Doctor Kuseno turned away.  
Genos cast one last glance behind at his guardian, savior, and friend.  
He knew he might not come back. Deadly, strength-sapping serum or no, Saitama was angry, dangerous, and borderline invincible. He would stop at nothing to attain his desires, even if it meant killing his best friend and former disciple.  
So Genos offered Doctor Kuseno one last backwards glance. Then, syringe in hand, he went off to find some clothes.

0o0o0o0o0  
 _Two Months Prior._

Genos collapsed, unmoving except for the crackling blue electricity erupting from his chest.   
_"Genos!"_ Saitama ran for his fallen disciple, while Stinger tore his spear free, cackling.  
"Some Class-S hero!" He grinned at Saitama. "Do you now see what I mean? I am far more powerful than any hero. And you are too. Together, you and I, we could rule!"  
One moment he was there, and the next Saitama was holding Stinger aloft by his ragged muscle suit, face inches from the other's, eyes flashing with rage.  
All the color drained from Stinger's face and, for the first time, he looked _afraid._  
 _Good._  
"I'm bored with this." He drew back his fist. "After I kill you, maybe I'll grab some udon."  
Stinger's eyes widened and he managed to squeak out a "no!" before he was nothing more than splatters of crimson and black coating the ground.  
Saitama smirked. Then, whistling cheerfully- though the tension with which he moved suggested that he was anything but- he gathered Genos in his arms, cradling the cyborg close to his chest, and in a flash he was gone.  
\---  
"Doctor Kuseno!" Saitama shouted urgently, standing outside the door to the old man's laboratory. It was pouring, and Saitama's clothes were plastered to his body and his bald head was shiny from the rain.  
He'd managed to unclasp his cape and drape it over Genos- who knew if he'd rust, or the inside of him would rust, or what- and that was soaked now too but it wouldn't _matter_ if Doctor Kuseno would _hurry up and open the damn door._  
Frustrated, Saitama kicked at it.  
The door broke off its hinges with a _snap_ and fell with a harsh _thunk._  
"Doctor Kuseno!" Saitama didn't pause to consider the door he'd accidentally destroyed, he hurried inside, chest heaving. "Doctor Kuseno!"  
"Genos, is that you?" A voice called from further inside.  
Saitama heard footsteps approaching, and a moment later Doctor Kuseno rounded the corner, eyes widening with shock at the sight of a very sodden Saitama with his arms full of an injured, unconscious Genos.  
"You must fix him."  
Doctor Kuseno gestured urgently back the way he'd come. "Follow me."

0o0o0o0o0  
 _Now._

Saitama ran. He ran out of the lab, out into the crisp, early morning where streaks of pink, orange, and yellow were just barely beginning to breach the navy horizon.  
He ran because Genos had betrayed him.  
Because the sole person _(humannotHUMAN)_ who'd said he'd always be there no matter what had plotted and schemed behind his back.  
Saitama ran because he had blood on his hands and he couldn't turn back from that _(noreturnnoturningback)_.  
He ran because the rage was boiling over.  
He ran because it was time for the Hero Association, for the whole _world,_ to fall to its knees and beg for forgiveness.  
And, of course, he had none.


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Genos wakes up.
> 
> Genos meets up with Sonic and Mumen in the outskirts of City Z.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We're winding up...

_Two Months Prior._

"His core has been destabilized. It's leaking energy. I have to patch it before it drains him." Doctor Kuseno hurried about the lab, snatching up tools, wires, parts that Saitama couldn't even begin to name.  
All he could do was hover nearby, helpless, unable to do anything for his disciple and long-time best friend.  
So he waited. There wasn't anything he could do besides that. He waited and waited, waited for Genos to die, waited for Doctor Kuseno to bring up what had happened that resulted in Genos being in such a state, or why Saitama had blood covering his gloves, dripping from them like raindrops.  
But he didn't, and Saitama didn't offer that information. Doctor Kuseno worked, silent except for the clinking of tools, the rhythmic whir of machinery, and the drip, drip, drip of Saitama's wet clothes dripping water onto the floor.   
Saitama wanted to lie down and sleep. After what had happened between he and Genos last night, after the events that had transpired this morning- he wasn't the only one to have had something done to him by that monster, but that was a revelation to be processed later- it felt like he was being crushed by an invisible weight.  
 _Please be okay._  
 _Please be okay._  
 _Please be okay._  
He stood and waited for what felt like hours. Or maybe days, or even weeks, or maybe it was mere minutes.  
Saitama shuddered. His clothes were sodden and cold and, now that the hot rushes of adrenaline and exertion were wearing off, he could actually feel the chill.  
 _Please be okay._  
 _Please be okay._  
Saitama paced, boots squeaking, leaving muddy footprints and crimson drops of water on the tile floor.  
He'd never been this afraid before. Not when he'd been alone, before Genos. Not when he'd faced down monsters like Vaccine Man or the Deep Sea King. Not even when Boros had come to town had Saitama been as afraid as he was now.  
He would annihilate anyone who dared lay a hand on Genos.  
 _Please be okay._  
 _Please be okay._  
For the first time, Saitama noticed how filthy he was. His uniform was ripped and soaked through, mud caking his boots, splattering his legs. Blood stained the yellow of his uniform.   
And when he glanced down, he could see that his chest and shoulders were coated in oil.   
Saitama's hands shook as he stared, transfixed, down at the black fluid.  
 _Aw, geez._  
\---  
It was not unusual for Genos to online, groggy and confused, in Doctor Kuseno's lab.  
It was, however, unusual for him to online and see Saitama there, too.  
The older man was asleep, leaned against the side of Doctor Kuseno's desk. The doctor himself was nowhere to be seen.  
Genos sat up, confused to see no wires attached to him. But that hardly mattered.   
He eased himself off the table and crept carefully towards his sensei, stiff but otherwise feeling okay.  
"Sensei."  
Saitama stirred, opened one eye. Closed it again and furrowed his brows before opening both eyes. "Gen . . . Genos?"  
Genos knelt, smiling despite the questions whirling around in his mind.   
"You're okay?" Saitama pulled him into a tight hug. His body was cold, very much unlike the way it had been the night before, when they . . .  
Genos' smile faded and he pulled away, mentally kicking himself at Saitama's bewildered and slightly hurt expression.   
"Sensei-"  
Saitama kissed him. It was somehow gentle and desperate at the same time and his gloved fingers were threading through Genos' hair, leaving black and red amidst the blond strands and Genos could live forever in that kiss but-   
He pulled away again.  
"I have questions for you, Sensei."  
"Oh." Saitama glanced down for a moment, then back up, quizzical. "Okay, Genos."  
Genos took a deep breath, preparing himself for the answer he knew his beloved teacher would give. "After I was decommissioned . . . did you kill Stinger? Like you killed Tanktop Blackhole and Tanktop Tiger?"  
Saitama took a deep breath and let it out slowly. Then he looked Genos square in the eye and said, "No."

0o0o0o0o0  
 _Now._

Genos ran for Bang's dojo. Outside the City, all was calm. The cows and sheep and horses all grazed peacefully in their respective pastures and the windows to the houses were dark.  
Genos was more concerned about the dark cloud drifting lazily into the sky above the distant city.  
He couldn't help but think that maybe the red-orange glow he could see was not, in fact, nightlife.  
He quickened his pace, thankful for once hat he was a high-tech, combat cyborg and therefore could move many, many times faster than the average human.  
The only creature in Earth he couldn't outpace was, of course, Saitama.  
The thought of Saitama brought to mind the syringe, tucked safely away in his pocket.   
Genos knew he would never use it, and he was tempted to get rid of it, but Doctor Kuseno's words kept him from tossing the serum far, far into the distance.  
That, and the probability of the serum striking and killing livestock or people.  
So in his pocket the syringe remained as Genos sped for the city.  
He had just reached the fringes- running past crumbling buildings decimated by powerful blows, past bodies broken and bloody- when suddenly something flashed toward him.  
He skidded to a stop and so did the sword, an inch from his face.  
"Genos!" Sonic hissed, surprised.   
"Sonic? What're you doing here?" Genos demanded.  
"Mumen is here too." Sonic slid his sword back into its sheath. His bodysuit was in tatters. He turned on one heel and started towards the hulking shell of an abandoned bus that sat at the edge of the street. "Follow."  
Sonic led the way, clambering through the bus' shattered doors.  
"Sonic?" A voice whispered from inside, "is that you?"  
"It's me," Sonic replied, heading towards the back. "I found Genos."  
"Genos!" Mumen's head popped into view from behind the last seat. "Good to see you!"  
"Sit back down!" Sonic snapped, "don't exasperate your injuries."  
"What happened?" Genos asked.  
"This idiot," Sonic sat down and shot a glare at Mumen, "decided he was going to try and take on Saitama."  
"He was going to punch a little girl!" Mumen protested.  
Sonic growled. "You're lucky he didn't kill you."  
Genos said nothing, choosing instead to cross his arms and lean back against one of the seats. Sonic sounded angry, but underneath the furious edge he could hear that the ninja was upset and scared.   
Genos could see why. Mumen was in rough shape.   
The hero's outer armor was missing and his shirt was wrapped tightly around his middle, slowly turning red. Many other cuts and bruises littered his torso. His right leg hung off the seat at an awkward angle, and Genos could see a tourniquet had been tied just above Mumen's knee.   
Mumen's goggles were cracked and, underneath layers of blood and dirt, his skin was deathly pale.   
Yet still, he wore a smile on his face as he asked, "what's the plan, Genos?"  
"Where's Bang?"  
"We got separated in the rush of evacuation." Sonic answered. "Haven't seen him since. I assume he joined up with the other Class-S heroes."  
Genos moaned inwardly. "Does he have the case?"  
Mumen nodded. Sonic glared at his feet.  
"We must get the case. It is the only way we can save Saitama. Or stand a chance against him."  
"And Mumen stays here." Sonic announced.  
"No way!" The hero objected, "I'm coming with you!"  
"With your injuries? You're dead weight!" Sonic hissed. "You'd only slow us down!"  
Genos nodded reluctantly. "I must agree with Sonic. Time is of the essence."  
"Fine."   
"I'll leave you with one of my blades." Sonic knelt and pulled a long, jagged knife from his belt, then pressed it into Mumen's hand.   
Then the ninja leaned close, whispering something unintelligible into Mumen's ear.  
Genos respectfully turned away, starting towards the front of the bus.  
He let them say their goodbyes. The odds were good that neither of them would make it out of what was coming.  
After a moment he heard the soft _tmp, tmp_ of Sonic's footsteps as the ninja caught up.  
"Let's go." He drew his katana.  
"Yes." Genos glanced back at Mumen, who had turned away to stare out the back window. His shoulders shook, and if Genos didn't know any better he'd bet that the hero was crying.  
But did he really know any better?  
They left the bus without another word, a silent agreement between them that they would see this through to the end as unlikely allies, no matter the outcome.


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Genos confronts Saitama.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> More to come next week! This past week has been a week of noooooooo tiiiimmeeee.

_Two Months Prior._

"Sensei, you are lying to me." Genos said, unbelieving of the words that came rushing from his mouth. "Why are you not telling the truth?"  
How could you say this to your sensei? One part of him argued.  
 _It must be said._ Another part countered.  
"Genos. Why do you say this?" There was an edge to Saitama's voice.  
"The blood on your gloves." Genos burst out.  
"And how do you know I didn't defeat a monster on my way here?" Saitama jostled Genos aside and stood.  
Genos shrank- actually _shrank_ \- back. He immediately felt ashamed; he did not cower in the face of terrifying monsters, but it seemed he did so at the slightest indication that his teacher might be angry.  
Nonetheless, he forced himself to hold his ground, rising so they were eye to eye. Gold to dark.  
"Because two heroes are already dead at your hands. Because you disappeared for _weeks_ after Terrible Tornado's death and you only came back _last night_ and we-" his biolights flared and steam spurted from his mouth. Genos paused, composed himself, and forged on. "We were _intimate._ And still you offer no explanation for where you have been!"  
All throughout this time, Saitama had remained silent. His eyes bored into Genos, his expression was unidentifiable.  
Genos braced himself for the blowback, for Saitama to lose his temper just as he had, many other times, when others had dared disrespect him.   
"How dare you." Saitama said slowly, fury darkening his features. _"How dare you."_  
Then he gave Genos a shove. Not as hard as he could have- Genos suspected he'd be dead if so- but hard enough to embed him firmly in the wall.  
The cyborg groaned, wrenching himself free one limb a a time, half expecting Saitama to be there, fist drawn back, death written in his eyes, not really sure if he knew his teacher at all, ashamed and sorry that he'd angered him but, at the same time, completely certain that he was right in his suspicions.  
When he, at last, managed to free himself, he crashed to the ground.  
When he got up, Saitama had gone.  
Genos managed to make it home by nightfall.   
He didn't hurry, nor did he go at a snail's pace. He didn't stop.  
He just walked, feet heavy, head whirling- almost numb.   
The last thing he expected when he arrived back at the apartment was for it to be occupied.  
"Hello," King greeted him cheerfully, glancing up from one of his handheld games. "Is Mister Saitama around?"  
 _"You!"_ Genos slammed the door behind him- ignoring the _crack_ and subsequent _thunk_ of the door breaking off its hinges and falling to the floor- and advanced, glowing palms held up.  
Sweat broke out on King's forehead as the King Engine began to rumble.  
 _Bumbumbumbumbumbum-_  
"You should have been with us!" Genos snarled, "you stayed home and played your _games_ instead of using your strength for good! You are a lazy fool and I should incinerate you where you stand! If you had come with us to battle that monster then Saitama-sensei would not have gotten hurt-"  
"Mister Saitama was injured?" The King Engine picked up: _BUMBUMBUMBUMBUMBUM-_ "I thought that was impossible."  
"I thought so too. I know now that it is not. But that is beside the point." Genos exhaled steam, feeling the crackling energy coursing through him, ready to annihilate this _pathetic_ man who cared not but for himself. "You need to get out. _Now."_  
King didn't protest. He scuttled out of the apartment, taking his game with him.   
Genos seethed in silence for a long moment, palms glowing, steam drifting from his shoulders.  
"Wow, way to diss King," a voice remarked casually from behind him.  
Genos whipped around, hands held up, to see Saitama.  
The older man was leaning against the side of the sliding door that lead out to the balcony, wearing a thoughtful expression.  
"Sensei!" Genos lowered his arms. "You are here! I didn't expect you to come back after . . after you left."  
 _After you attacked me._ He left that part unsaid.   
"Ah . . . I'm sorry about that." Saitama ran a hand over his head, leaving behind streaks of blackish-brown. "I . . . uh . . . I'm not sure what came over me."  
Genos sighed. "Do you think it has something to do with what that monster did to you?"  
The man didn't answer, but Genos saw him tense. One moment he had the appearance of a relaxed, careless man- the one that Genos had come to know so well- and the next, every muscle in his body was tense. He was like a cornered animal.  
Scared.  
Genos didn't often see his teacher afraid.   
"I'm going to take a shower." Saitama hurried past Genos and disappeared into the other room.   
He was in there for almost an hour.  
It was unlike him, really, to spend longer than ten minutes in the shower or bath, as he often worried over the water bill.  
During that time, Genos brewed tea, made the bed, tidied up, then settled to watch the news. He could hardly focus on it though. His mind spun with questions that yielded no answers. He wasn't sure how he felt. Angry? Perhaps. Helpless? He was unable to comprehend what was afflicting Saitama, nor was he able to help. Rejected? He sighed. Yes, he felt rejected, as if what had happened between him and his mentor didn't mean anything at all.   
Mostly, however, he could not shake the feeling that everything was about to become far worse.  
When he finally heard the shower turn off, he rose and silently approached the door.  
"Sensei?" He rapped his metal knuckles gently against the hard wooden door. "Would you like some tea?"   
He heard a muffled thump, then the door was pulled open and Genos was yanked into the cramped space.   
"Sen . . . sei?!" He stammered, alarmed and confused to find himself held firmly against a damp, muscled chest.  
"I've told you over and over again," came the exasperated voice, whispered from right next to his ear, "call me _Saitama._ Not 'sensei.'"  
"Yes, sen- Saitama."  
"Good." A hand wrapped around his waist, the other coming up to cup Genos' face, thumb caressing tenderly.  
Genos wondered if this was a good idea? If they should be doing this instead of trying to find out what was causing Saitama to act this way.  
But then Saitama kissed him, and Genos lost himself entirely.


	13. Chapter 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sonic and Genos search for Bang.
> 
> Saitama faces off against Metal Bat.  
> Bang makes a desperate move.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Over 100 Kudos and 2000 hits!!! Thank you guys so much.

_Now._

Looking back- at those nights he spent with his sensei, at the days in which he threw himself into hero work- Genos was incredibly thankful that he had thought to consult with Doctor Kuseno about Saitama's condition.  
Without his foresight, along with the blood sample that had been extremely difficult for Genos to obtain, Doctor Kuseno would not have been able to identify the toxin present in Saitama's blood.  
Without it, he would not have been able to synthesize a cure to that toxin.  
Without it, Genos would not have Saitama's death hidden away in his pocket.  
He could feel it there as he and Sonic ran through the streets of City Z.  
Genos could sometimes spot the ninja out of the corner of his eye- Sonic flashed in and out of the early morning shadows, merely a lithe silhouette in the dim, purple scarf fanning out behind him.  
Genos wasn't as stealthy. He stuck to the sidewalk, feet crunching over broken glass, wood splinters, and other debris. He itched to be on the rooftops, to have a clear view of his surroundings, but many of the nearby buildings had been decimated by the powerful blows that indicated Saitama had been there.  
Besides, while he could see everything from the rooftops, it also meant that everything could see _him._  
And, _oh,_ Genos wanted Saitama to see him. But first they had to locate Bang.  
Bang had the case. Without the case, the innocent people of this world had little to hope for.  
Normally, there were people in the streets by this hour: joggers, early birds, workers. There was no one.  
No one except the ragged corpses of the should-have-been living.  
Saitama had been thorough: there were _no_ living.  
Their cars however, remained where they were, abandoned when the citizens began to realize that heavy traffic flooding the streets would not help them escape.  
They were splattered with blood and pieces of things that Genos didn't want to put a name to, and many of them were upside down, on their sides or tossed into shops and houses like a child had gotten bored and had carelessly tossed them aside.  
_Blowback from Saitama's punches,_ Genos figured.  
Suddenly, from the opposite end of the City, the sounds of battle arose, explosion after explosion shaking the ground and sending clouds of black smoke into the sky.  
Genos slowed to a stop, and Sonic appeared beside him. "Have the heroes taken him on?"  
"It seems so," Genos answered, folding his arms across his chest. "Their attacks will not make a difference. Even an attack by the Class-S, rank one hero, Blast himself would only serve to make him angrier."  
"Bang must be nearby. He'd want to help the other heroes."  
"He will try to administer the cure, but he will fail." Genos cursed, "he should have waited for us. Foolish old man."  
Sonic snorted, "we should-"  
He was cut off by a massive blast. It shattered any remaining windows and buildings began to crumble under the shockwave.  
Genos stumbled back, automatically coming up to shield his face, struggling to stay on his feet.  
Sonic, being less sturdy, was sent flying back. Genos lost sight of him.  
He did, however, glance up. He glanced up just in time to see a figure falling from the sky, hurtling right for him.  
Seconds before the figure landed, an announcement came over the citywide speakers:  
"Attention throughout all Cities! This is the Hero Association! All citizens must evacuate immediately! All heroes are needed in City Z! This is a threat level of God. I repeat: this is a threat level of God."  
\---  
The insolent _fools._  
Saitama perched on the edge of a balcony, twenty stories off the ground.  
Stupid fools. Stupid, _boring_ fools.  
He was happy to kill them.  
It would be a mercy, really, to take their miserable, pathetic lives. _(TakethemrendthemTEARTHEMAPART)_  
But not yet. First, he had to get to the root of the problem.  
The Hero Association employees who worked in the branch offices had been evacuated ahead of everyone else. They all fled to the main headquarters at the heart of City A when Saitama's threat level had risen from Demon to Dragon.  
Which means that, to cut the head off the snake, Saitama would have to go to City A.  
And then, they would see. They would see that, as the Hero Association had betrayed him, it had betrayed them too, forcing them to fight while overfed executives waited safely behind reinforced steel walls.  
He would show them the truth, and the Hero Association would be destroyed by those it claimed to protect.  
Then, he would slaughter the heroes like the worthless lambs they were.  
They had scorned him, mocked him for his looks and his lifestyle and his strength.  
And he would make Genos watch as his precious "sensei" spiraled down the path of no return.  
Then he would dismember him, piece by piece, and savor every delicious moment.  
The heroes at the base were arguing, fighting amongst themselves. A few of them were gesturing upwards.  
_Good._  
Then something heavy tackled him from behind.  
Saitama didn't move. He didn't even do much as flinch as an arm wrapped around his neck and something sharp was prodded into the base of his skull.  
"Hold still," a gruff voice whispered in his ear, "it will all be over soon."  
"Oh no," Saitama said, rolling his eyes, "please don't stab me."  
The sharp object dug a little deeper, a warmness beginning to spread from it. "I am not trying to kill you, young'un."  
Saitama staggered, mind whirling, and fell back, faintly picking up the muffled grunt from beneath him as he landed on the floor of the balcony.  
"It's almost over." The voice murmured, sounding relieved.  
Saitama felt like passing out. The tingling warmth spread down his arms and chest and it was . . . comfy. Nice, like a hug.  
He hadn't felt like this in a long time.  
And then the haze was pierced by a fierce cry and something hard collided with his face.  
"No!" Whoever had been whispering was now yelling.  
Saitama was jostled aside and the voice- and the person it belonged to- disappeared.  
He managed to sluggishly raise an arm and grope behind his head, closing his fingers around the sharp thing and fumbling to pull it out.  
Reality came crashing back and Saitama gasped for breath as his mind suddenly cleared.  
He glanced at what he held in his hand: a syringe, half-filled with glowing pink liquid.  
He stood, the fury he was so accustomed to came flooding back and with a gentle constriction of his gloved fingers the syringe was reduced to glass shards. The pink fluid seeped between his fingers.  
He looked to Bang, who was using Fist of Flowing Water, Crushing Rock to fend off Metal Bat's harried advances.  
Metal Bat noticed him first. He shoved Bang aside and charged, his bat coming down again and again.  
Few of his blows missed its target. None had any effect whatsoever.  
The Class-S Hero really did look terrible: his clothing was ripped, hair springing from its carefully coiffed pomp, and he bled from multiple lacerations. His jaw was clearly broken, as was his nose, which leaked a lazy trail of crimson.  
"Damnit! Just die!" Metal Bat screamed, "Die! Die! Die!"  
"I spared you," Saitama said calmly, "that won't happen a second time."  
He seized Metal Bat before the other could do anything to resist.  
Then he threw him. The Class-S Hero sailed through the air, disappearing into the distance.  
"Glad that's done." Saitama rubbed his hands together.  
Then he turned to Bang.


	14. Chapter 14

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Genos and Sonic find Metal Bat.
> 
> Saitama makes for City A.
> 
> Vomiting TW in this chapter! Very nonexplicit and brief.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it's so late! Me and my mom had to take my dog to the emergency vet (she's fine now) and I had work today and it was just chaotic.  
> But here it is! Enjoy!

_Now._

Genos dove out of the way, just in time to avoid the crash-landing of the mangled, broken man.  
He fell where the cyborg had been moments before, hitting the ground with the sick crackling of bones, skidding a few feet, tumbling over himself in a bloody mess of limbs before finally coming to a stop and lying still.  
Genos scrambled to his side, kneeling and carefully turning him onto his back.  
He sucked in a breath as he saw that the person who had fallen from the sky was none other than Metal Bat.  
Genos rushed to take a pulse, pressing two sensitive metal fingers against the hero's limp wrist.  
Nothing.  
He did the same thing against an artery in Metal Bat's throat.  
Nothing. He wasn't breathing. His heart was not beating.  
And Genos was panicking. Electricity crackled at his fingers as his emotions took control and sent his systems into overdrive.  
Then he glanced at his hands, and he got an idea.  
A risky one, but . . .  
Tentatively, Genos reached out and, with his index finger, touched Metal Bat's chest.  
The hero's body seized, jerked, and Metal Bat's eyes flew open and he shot up into a sitting position, grabbing Genos by the threat with a rasping growl.  
"I'll . . . _kill_ . . . you!"  
"Tch . . ." Genos choked, fumbling to grab at the extremely strong, Class-S hand currently preventing him from breathing.  
And while Genos was strong, an addled, desperate Metal Bat was stronger and his fingers dug in deep, threatening to crush circuitry and metal.  
There was a flash of silver and purple and then Genos was free, gasping and coughing.  
Metal Bat had caught Sonic's blade, mere centimeters away from where it's been aimed to slit his throat.  
The blade cut into Metal Bat's palms, blood trickling from the cuts, mingling with the dirt and sweat and already blood-soaked fabric.  
"You know," Sonic remarked, "for a cyborg, you're not very cyborg-ish."  
"Doctor Kuseno . . ." Genos coughed, made it so I could live like a human."  
"Where am I?" Metal Bat croaked, drawing attention back to him. "What . . . What happened?"  
Genos traded a glance with Sonic.  
"You are very injured." Genos said. "You require immediate medical attention."  
"Bullshit. 'M fine."  
"You say that, but you were _dead."_ Sonic snapped, withdrawing his sword and resheathing it. "Saitama threw you so hard you _died."_  
"Bull. Shit." Metal Bat tried to get up, to stand, but his limbs trembled violently and he collapsed again, breath ragged and shuddering. A few tears rolled down his face.  
"We should take him to Mumen. Mumen can keep him safe." Sonic glanced down at Genos.  
"We don't have enough time. Didn't you see that blast? That was Saitama, heading for City A. He'll destroy the Hero Association, and then the world as we know it when that doesn't satisfy him." Genos ran a hand through his hair, the dust and blood in it, alongside the excess electricity in his fingers, causing it to spike up in every different direction. "We have to take him with us and hope that there are medics who didn't evacuate with the citizens."  
"He's dead weight!" Sonic hissed at the same time Metal Bat slurred, "whirrsm'bat?"  
"We take him." Genos stood. "We cannot leave him here to die."  
"Whirrsm'bat . . ."  
"I'll get your precious bat!" Sonic disappeared in a blur.  
"Can you walk?" Genos focused his attention on the wounded hero, quite aware that the answer to his question was most likely no, but unsure of how to deal with this broken boy who had kidnapped and held him hostage and tried to kill his sensei.  
"Nngh." Was Metal Bat's only answer.  
"Genos! What's this?" Sonic reappeared. He clutched a blood-spattered, filthy, but still undeniably silver bat in one hand, and a syringe in the other.  
A syringe filled with fluorescent green fluid.  
Genos' hands flew to his pocket, where the serum should have been.  
Where it was no longer.  
Sonic's eyes narrowed. He hadn't missed that move. "You had the cure this whole time?"  
The words tumbled out of before he could stop them. "Is not the cure. It's-"  
He shut his mouth.  
"It's what?" Sonic snarled, throwing down the bat in favor of reaching for his sword. "It's. _What?"_  
"Are you insane?" Genos' palms began to glow. "Now is not the time to fight! We must preserve our strength!"  
"Better start explaining, then."  
Genos took a deep breath, pondering what he should do. What his sensei- not the sensei of now, but the one from before- would want him to do.  
He exhaled slowly. "It's a death serum. It, if injected or swallowed, will take your strength, rendering you useless. After that, after you suffer excruciating pain, it will take your life."  
_"What?!_ You had this- this _solution_ to all our problems in your- your what- your damn _pocket?!"_ Sonic waved the syringe. "How long have you had this?"  
"I refuse to kill him before we have a chance to try and cure him."  
"Take a look around!" Sonic's voice rose until he was shouting, his face a dark mix of incredulity and rage. "People are _dead._ Entire cities have been _destroyed._ And _no one can stop him._ He will _kill_ us without so much as a second thought!"  
Genos opened his mouth, ready to fire back a scathing retort, but he was interrupted by the sounds of retching.  
They both looked down at the same time.  
Metal Bat was on his hands and knees, vomiting a thin stream of blood into the pavement.  
"We have to go. Now." Genos helped Metal Bat up, bearing the brunt of the weight as the hero's head lolled against his shoulder. "Grab his bat."  
\---  
Saitama turned to Bang, but Bang was gone, and heroes were flooding into the twentieth floor apartment, raising weapons to shatter the glass sliding door, all clamoring to get a chance to take on the threat level of God.  
Saitama ignored them. They were flies. Annoying, yes, but ultimately harmless. He didn't have the heart to kill them.  
So he launched himself into the air, his jump creating a powerful shockwave that shattered windows and sent heroes flying, shrieking as the floors crumbled beneath them.  
Saitama breathed a small sigh of relief as everything shrank away below him and he was embraced by the cold dawn sky.  
It would all be over soon.


	15. Chapter 15

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Genos and Sonic meet the other heroes.  
> Metal Knight comes into play.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had a hard time with this chapter. It's why I didn't post anything last week. I knew I wasn't going to finish the chapter in time.  
> Plus, I wanted to make you guys wait.   
> But, next week, there will be an update.

"There has never been a threat level of God." Sweat dripped from Sonic's forehead, making his pale skin shine in the morning light. "Where will people go? The whole of humanity- the entire world- is in peril. Where do you flee to if there is nowhere that's safe?"  
Genos surveyed their surroundings, or what was left of them.   
One thing in particular caught his eye. From beneath an overturned car poked a deathly white, blood-soaked hand.  
"They'll run anywhere they can." He answered quietly.  
They continued on, picking over rubble and around holes, being careful not to jostle the unconscious Class-S hero they had propped between them.  
"We're not going to make it in time, you know." Such simple words could not have carried more weight.  
Genos didn't reply, but inwardly he agreed.  
Metal Bat- a well-muscled, unconscious, heavily injured Metal Bat- made progress through City Z painfully slow.  
By the time they reached City A, the Hero Association- and many, many innocent lives- would be long destroyed, and Saitama would have ventured down a path where he could not be reached and down which Genos could not follow.   
"I detect living beings nearby. Two are approaching," he said instead.  
Sonic visible tensed and looked about to reach for his sword before remembering that his hands were full: a metal bat clutched in his left hand and Metal Bat supported with his right.  
He glanced at Genos and the cyborg nodded.  
Together they set Metal Bat carefully down onto the ground, Sonic immediately going for his sword and Genos' biolights beginning to heat up, glowing brightly under his white shirt and producing steam that curled into itself, then drifted up, up into the sky.  
"They're coming." Genos spoke in a whisper, yet Sonic seemed to understand. "Just around the corner."  
"Then let's meet them." Sonic's lips stretched themselves wide into an eager, psychotic smile.   
Then he disappeared.   
A moment later there was a scuffle and a loud grunt. Then a cry of surprise.  
"Hey! No, stop!"  
"W-waitaminute!"  
Genos charged around the corner. He _knew_ those voices. "Sonic!"  
"What?" The ninja sounded irritated. He straightened, but didn't release his grip on the throat of Lightning Max, nor did he redirect his blade away from the jugular of King.  
As Genos ran a scan on the situation he noticed that King's knees were quaking almost imperceptibly and that there was a faint wet spot- black against the gray of his pants- where he'd pissed himself in fear.   
_What a cowardly, pathetic man._ Genos wrinkled his nose, avoiding the man's beseeching glance. _He does not deserve to call himself the strongest man._  
"Sonic!" He said again, "they're fine! They're heroes."  
"I thought I recognized the yellow guy." Sonic released his grip on Lightning Max- who collapsed to his knees, gasping and sputtering- and slowly, slowly withdrew the tip of his blade from King's throat.  
All the while, the King Engine rumbled: _bumbumbumbumbum._  
"What is going on?" Genos didn't pause to engage in pleasantries. "What are the two of you doing here?"  
"Searching for survivors." Lightning Max got to his feet with a shaky sigh. "But as you have probably seen, there aren't many. We have set up a base of sorts to the south, near where Caped Malevolence attacked."  
He paused. "What're _you_ doing out here? Why didn't you follow the orders the Hero Association gave us to eliminate the-" fear crossed his face "-the threat level of God?"  
Genos opened his mouth to reply but Sonic cut in.  
"We're on an important mission from the Hero Association." The edges of his form blurred ever so slightly- Genos felt slender fingers tugging something gently from his pocket- and he held up the serum, which had seemingly been pulled from nowhere. With a small smirk on his face, the ninja ignored Genos' death glare and continued, "they entrusted us with this. This will kill Sai- Caped Malevolence."  
Both the heroes gaped for a long moment before Lightning Max scoffed and crossed his arms.  
"You're so full of it. Caped Malevolence is _invincible._ He's more powerful than Blast himself."  
"You're not a hero," King said, voice breathy, barely above a whisper. The King Engine grew louder. "Who _are_ you?"  
Sonic gritted his teeth, looking about ready to skewer King where he stood, but Genos intervened.  
"That doesn't matter," he snapped, "what is important is that we have knowledge of Saitama's plans. We can stop him. So if you are going to waste our time, then leave. Metal Bat is injured and Saitama may have already reached City A."  
"Waita sec." Lightning Max held up his hands. "Metal Bat's with you?"  
\---  
"The serum stays with me." Sonic hissed the words quietly, too soft for Lightning Max or King to here. It wasn't really a problem. Lightning Max strode ahead, sharp eyes darting towards every shadow, ever-vigilant in his search for survivors or potential threats.  
King, however, lagged behind, shirking away from even the faintest of movements. His skin shone with sweat. _Bumbumbumbumbumbumbum._  
Sonic and Genos were smack in the middle, lugging Metal Bat between them.  
The Class-S hero was part of the reason that Genos bit back his scathing retort. Now was not the time too fight. It was the last thing they needed when the world was crumbling around them.  
And, in truth, Genos was tired.  
Not physically, of course; it was not easy for him to get tired from exertion.  
Mentally, he was exhausted. He wanted to curl up in a ball in the arms of his beloved sensei and not wake up for a long, long time. 

0o0o0o0o0  
 _??? Prior._

Genos didn't tell anyone that Saitama came to him at night.  
He didn't tell Bang, who had come to him and offered assistance in the half-baked plan to cure Saitama.  
He didn't tell Mumen Rider, who continued to patrol every day, doing everything he could despite being put in the hospital three or four times a week.   
He didn't tell Sonic, who he hadn't seen in a good long while.   
He didn't even tell Doctor Kuseno.  
He _especially_ didn't tell the Hero Association, who called daily meetings of the Class-S heroes to discuss the ever-worsening threat and rising body count.  
Saitama was his secret. A secret that slid in through the glass door every night and took Genos in his arms and did unspeakable things to him.   
And it almost made him feel like Saitama had a tiny bit of humanity left in him.  
So Genos kept his secret. He kept it even as cities fell and peoples' lives were taken.  
Even when- 

0o0o0o0o0  
 _Now._

The coppery tang of blood hit him square in the nose, jerking him from his thoughts right as a hand clamped down on his shoulder.  
"Demon Cyborg."  
"Metal Knight." Genos replied curtly, stopping abruptly in his tracks.   
Sonic jolted forward, jostling Metal Bat between them, but he didn't do more than shoot Genos a sharp look.  
"You rescued Metal Bat. Well done." The drone- Metal Knight rarely actually risked his life, preferring to pilot remote-controlled robots instead- stared down at him unblinkingly, voice monotone.  
"How many casualties?" Genos chose to ignore the praise.  
"That does not matter." The grip he had on Genos' shoulder tightened as three smaller, airborne drones flew up to them. "My medical bots will tend to Metal Bat."  
The drones went to work, and Metal Knight steered the cyborg towards the crowds of heroes clustered in the small plaza ahead.   
Many of them were silent, sitting numbly on a bench or the sidewalk or the ground, but there were still dull murmurs of conversation that rippled through the air.  
Metal Knight's hold on Genos grew tighter, the robot's fingers leaving dents in the sensitive metal.  
Genos glanced behind him, searching for Sonic.  
The ninja was there, following behind, eyes fixed intently on Metal Knight, hand hovering just above the pommel of his sword, ready to whip it out at any moment.  
Genos felt a flicker of relief: he wasn't completely alone in this.  
"You see, Demon Cyborg, I know what you've done." Metal Knight said, loud enough for others to here.  
Heads turned, attentions piqued.  
Metal Knight held up a heavy, robotic hand and another drone came to his side.   
At his command, it displayed a projection on the flat brick wall of one of the only buildings left standing.   
Shocked gasps burst from the heroes.  
Genos himself felt his mouth dropping open in surprise.   
The projected video was of him. And Saitama.  
More specifically: Saitama, half-naked, on top of him, face buried in Genos' neck.  
The Genos in the video arched his back, biolights glowing vividly and his mouth wide open, mid-moan.  
"Demon Cyborg has betrayed us."  
Genos looked around wildly to see various expressions of shock, disbelief, anger. Even hatred.   
Sonic, still lurking, stared at him with an unidentifiable expression.  
Genos turned to Metal Knight. "I-"  
Then there was an explosion. It shook the city and, from far off into the distance came flames and smoke.  
Then nothing.


	16. Chapter 16

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Drive Knight assists Genos.
> 
> Saitama takes down the Hero Association.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the second unexpected week hiatus! I've started college and moved into my dorm and done pre season for field hockey and such so I've been very busy, alongside a lot of writer's block.  
> This story is almost at its end. One more chapter, two at most.  
> It's been a wild ride. Thank you guys so much for your comments and kudos. Made my day every time.

_Now._

Genos regained his sense much more quickly than the others did, just in time to see Metal Knight's drones fall from the sky, crashing to the ground in showers of sparks that were instantly snuffed out in the rushing, scorching smoke.  
His first thought was: _Saitama has made it to City A._  
His second was: _Metal Knight must have been at the Hero Association headquarters._  
Odds are, he was dead now.  
He shrugged off the now-deactivated hand of the drone, thankful that he hadn't been forced to destroy it in front of the other heroes.  
That would have damned him for sure, as if his head wasn't already on the chopping block.  
Through the swirling ash and rancid smoke, Genos detected something.  
A moment later he caught the flash of metal out of the corner of his eye.  
He snatched the blade mere inches from his right eye.  
One constriction of his fingers and the sword shattered.  
Sonic screamed and came at him again with the stub of his broken weapon.  
Genos just barely managed to fend off the ninja's super-fast blows, the steel nub of the sword clashing against his metal forearms.  
"Sonic!" Genos cried, "get a hold of yourself!"  
"You . . . You . . ." Sonic actually _snarled,_ baring his teeth like a rabid animal. "You're a traitor! You guaranteed our deaths to satisfy your _lust!"_  
"We need to get to City A!" Genos stepped to the side just in time to avoid a shuriken that was sent flying at him. His palms began to glow. He had to make Sonic see. He couldn't lose his last ally. "Saitama-"  
"Oh. You don't get to do that anymore." Sonic disappeared from view. "You have doomed us all!"  
 _He still possesses the serum!_ Genos swung his head around wildly, palms held up, ready to fire, mechanical eyes searching through the smoke for any sign of silver and black.   
He was so focused on this that he did not notice his proximity alarm going off.   
Three shurikens skimmed by just as Drive Knight leapt at him from out of nowhere.  
The hero clamped his hand over his mouth, effectively stifling the surprised shout that burst from the cyborg.   
Drive Knight dragged him into the shelter of the ruins of a small shop, pulling him down into a crouch. "Shh!"  
Another shuriken whirred through the air right where Genos had been moments before.   
"I know why you did it." Drive Knight's robotic voice was a whisper. "You sacrificed yourself to keep the threat contained."  
 _Lies._ Genos nodded against Drive Knight's palm.  
"I will hold the ninja off. But you have to stop him. You're the only one who can."  
He removed his hand.  
Genos sucked in a breath, coughed. "Sonic. Sonic has the death serum."  
Drive Knight cursed, "he'll kill us before we can so much as make a move against him."  
"If we both go at him at once we will have a chance. He cannot fend off both of us at once." Genos gritted his teeth. "But what of the other heroes?"  
Only a shrug in return. Genos wasn't sure if that meant that the other didn't know, or that all of the other heroes were dead, aftermaths of Saitama's rage.  
"Exploding Shurikens!"   
Genos was thrown forward into Drive Knight by a massive force slamming into his back.   
The already decimated shop was destroyed completely by the explosions that rattled the air.  
Sonic appeared, briefly, a manic smile on his face, but he was soon gone again as Drive Knight struggled to his feet and charged, single eye bright and piercing through the haze.  
Genos was on his feet the next instant, clutching at an arm that hung by a few scraggly wires.  
His proximity alarm was going nuts, worthless data piling into his systems, telling him that everyone was everywhere at once.   
He sucked in a breath, coughed on the rancid ash and smoke, and activated all his weaponry systems, waiting until he could make out the shadowy form of Drive Knight, chasing after Sonic like only a high-ranking Class-S hero could.  
It took a moment, but Genos zeroed in on the dusty silhouette, dancing just ahead of Drive Knight, too fast for a normal human eye- or even a well-trained hero's eye- to catch sight of.  
And so he fired a wide burst of flame at the smoke outline of Sonic. "Drive Knight, get down!"  
The S-Class hero dove under the whirlwind of flame, managing to snag Sonic's ankle and bring him down, dazing him.   
Drive Knight scrambled on top of the ninja and wrestled the serum from him while Genos lowered his palms and ran for them.  
 _"Here!"_ Drive Knight tossed the syringe at him. _"Take it!"_  
"No!" Sonic howled, swinging the stump of his sword wildly, catching Drive Knight in several places and tearing his metal skin.   
Genos dove for it but it was too late. The syringe cracked against against the hard, unforgiving ground, a crack snaking up the delicate glass, as bright green liquid oozed from it.  
Genos ignored the cries of Drive Knight as Sonic took his rage out on the cyborg in frenzied attacks, choosing instead to cradle the syringe carefully in his fingers.  
Fluid trickled from it steadily, staining his sensitive metal joints.  
There was no way it would last all the way to City A.  
No way to bring down Saitama either, especially since Bang- and the briefcase containing the cure- was nowhere to be found.  
Genos stared at the syringe, that meaningless- and yet painfully significant- item that could take the life of the one he loved.   
He paid no attention to his surroundings. They faded around him, leaving only silence.  
He knew what he had to do.  
\---  
It took only one punch to level the Hero Association Headquarters in City A.  
 _Of course it did._  
It was satisfying to watch the resulting ball of flame as their precious, "invincible" stronghold of power crumbled.  
Pride flickered in his chest as the immense shockwaves created by his impact swept ash, flames, debris, and even bodies throughout City A and far beyond into other cities like a tidal wave.   
Hovering high in the air, hugged by intense heat with harsh ringing in his ears and sticky tears slipping down his cheeks- evaporating before they even reached his chin- Saitama smiled.  
Maybe for once he would revered. Worshipped like the other heroes.  
A sudden melancholy stole over him.  
He'd be _feared_ too.  
But that was forgotten when he spotted movement in the rubble far, far below him.


	17. Chapter 17

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A final showdown.  
> Plus an epilogue.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The final chapter of Threat Level: God! Thank you guys so much for the comments and the kudos and the over 3000 (OMG) hits! Be sure to stay tuned for more (I have dubbed this AU the TLG!AU) TLG-related works in the future! (*winkwinkcoughcough*SEQUEL*nudgenudge*)   
> This is the longest chapter yet! Took up 14 pages in my new notebook.  
> I'm really proud of this work, and the six months of working on it that forced me to write and write and write for the deadline of weekly updates (I do apologize, for the lax in the weekly updates- college is a bitch).  
> Thank you all, and enjoy the final installment of Threat Level:God.

_Now._

He emerged from the rubble, coughing and spluttering on the dust.  
"Hurry!" He croaked, clambering from the hole as quickly as his aching, bruised body would allow.  
One by one, his coworkers followed, scurrying like frightened mice as the metal beams that supported the roof of their underground bolthole groaned under the weight of the entirety of the collapsed Hero Association Headquarters.  
One by one, they escaped, until a total of seven survivors clustered around him, bodies trembling.   
"Wait." He counted them, turning slowly. "Where is Tenya?"  
"Help! Help me!" A voice cried from within the bolthole. The underground structure creaked and moaned. The voice sobbed in terror. "Sitch! Help me! I'm trapped!"  
"Hang on!" Sitch lunged for the hole just as a figure dropped from the sky.  
 _WHUMPH._ The bolthole collapsed with the force of the figure's impact, and with it went Tenya.  
A strangled cry escaped Sitch's mouth before he could stop it at the same moment he noticed who the figure was.  
Caped Malevolence straightened, fists clenched and white cape rippling out behind him in all its glory.  
The villain sneered as the survivors pressed closer around Sitch, several of them whimpering or outright bursting into tears, even praying.  
Sitch wasn't fooled. No amount of prayer would save them. No god would come rushing to their aid.  
It was only him.  
He stepped forward, holding his hands up in surrender, trying to pretend they weren't trembling. "Caped Malevolence, we surrender. Whatever you want, it's yours."  
Tears welled up, spilled over, rolled down his cheeks, carving paths through the sweat and the dust and the red, red blood. "Just . . . _please_ . . . spare us."  
He searched the man's face for a hint of mercy, of pity, of _anything_ that could mean salvation.  
All he could see was unfathomable rage. Rage, and . . . tears.  
Caped Malevolence was _crying._  
Sitch felt the faintest flicker of hope fluttering weakly in his chest.  
"I don't like you." Caped Malevolence took a step forward, crushing that hope with four simple words. "You people. You disgust me."  
One moment he was there, standing on ruins under which was buried countless colleagues and friends, and the next he was right in front of Sitch, hauling him into the air by the fabric of his filthy, torn suit.  
Sitch's eyes darted left, right, anywhere so that he wasn't staring into Caped Malevolence's red-rimmed eyes, shot through with anger and insanity.  
"It's your fault I'm like this," Caped Malevolence hissed, so close that Sitch could feel the man's breath, hot against his skin.  
Sitch couldn't help but cringe, and he prayed that he would make it out of this, that the others would make it out of this.  
He strained to look behind him. Had they run? Did they escape?  
Suddenly Caped Malevolence was shaking him, so hard that his clothing ripped and it felt like his brain was rattling around inside his skull.  
"Look at me when I talk to you!" Saitama drew back his fist, red sizzling at the edges of his vision. They never learned. Not even when death stared them in the face. These people would learn now. That he was to be _respected._ That he was to be _feared-_  
The Hero Association executive was snatched from his grip suddenly in a gust of flame and the glint of metal.  
Saitama spun, teeth bared, to meet a wave of fire and heat.  
Quicker than the human eye could see, Saitama slipped out of its way, managing to avoid the singing of his clothes or eyebrows.  
 _Genos._  
 _I'm going to kill him._  
Saitama could see him: his cyborg, missing an arm, blasting flames at his afterimage.   
Saitama had just enough time to give a little smirk and think _he can't catch me, I'm too fast,_ before he spotted the Hero Association executive, unconscious just behind Genos.  
He could also see the other HA employees out of the corner of his eye, hiding where they must have thought he wouldn't find them.  
He'd deal with them at a later time.  
"Why are you protecting them, Genos?" He whispered this as he flashed by, fingers reaching, reaching for the HA executive's prone body.  
Genos shifted back, preparing to turn, just in time. Saitama was gone when he whirled, firing at where he _had_ been a moment before. The executive remained where he lay.  
Genos said nothing in response to Saitama's jab, choosing instead to keep his palm up, glowing, ready.  
Saitama came to a stop, facing him.   
It struck him as ironic, as it reminded him of when he and Genos had sparred.   
They'd been strangers: less than friends, far from lovers.   
Some things stayed the same. It always did between the two of them.  
It was always just the two of them.  
"Get out of my way, Genos!" Saitama shouted, "or I'll remove you."  
If he hoped to illicit a reply, he got none. Genos said nothing. His glowing palm remained directed at Saitama, his golden eyes piercing.  
Saitama's blood boiled. How dare Genos, the boy he took under his wing and trained and took care of and _loved,_ ignore him.  
"I mean it, Genos!" Saitama advanced, closer, closer. "I will tear your core out and make you watch as I dismember you."  
When there was _still_ no answer, he sighed and ran a bloodstained glove lightly over his bald head. "I'm bored, Genos."  
 _It's time to finish this._  
 _Finish him._  
He began to step forward, fists clenching- then someone attacked him from behind.  
___  
Genos managed to remain upright through sheer willpower, funneling the last traces of his energy to keep his palm glowing, seeming as if he were strong and ready to take on something much stronger.  
As soon as Sonic attacked Saitama from behind, however, Genos fell to his knees, clamping his hand over his mouth and arching over in an attempt to keep fluid from spilling out.  
His vision swam, red emergency shutdown alarms pulsing, eating away at the edges.   
He could feel it devouring him from the inside out.   
He would not last much longer like this. He had to do something.  
Entire frame quivering, Genos got to his feet just in time for Saitama to throw Sonic off him violently.  
The ninja crashed into Genos and they both went down in a pile of limbs.  
"You two. You never give up." Saitama shook his head slowly and stalked toward them, cape waving out behind him, dirty and ragged, boots crunching over broken glass and twisted bits of metal.  
Genos tried to get up. Failed. Tried again, failed. His limbs wouldn't obey him, his vision was going black.  
He shoved weakly at Sonic with his surviving arm, but the ninja didn't respond. He lay next to Genos like a discarded rag doll, unmoving, blood oozing from a gash in his forehead.  
Genos was on his own.  
"I trusted you, once upon a time." Saitama crouched, cocking his head, dark eyes flashing, studying him. "You didn't make me like this. You're not like him-" he gestured to Sitch, who was still sprawled a few feet away "-or like _her."_   
His eyes darkened for a moment- so quick that in his addled state Genos might have mistaken it- before returning to their normal passive state.  
It struck Genos all of a sudden that this was the first time in months that Saitama looked _normal._ No _rage,_ no _hate_ . . .  
Nothing.  
Genos could live and die in that gaze.  
Then Saitama seized him and slammed him against the ground, grip cracking the metal of Genos' chestplates, allowing blue shafts of light from his core to peek through.  
Saitama drew his fist back. "Goodbye, Genos."  
"W-wait!" Genos choked on the liquid in his mouth, green fluid dripping from between his lips.  
Saitama hesitated, and that was all it took.  
Genos pulled him down for a kiss.  
\---  
It didn't last long.  
Saitama fought- struggling against the death serum that Genos forced into his mouth, but his strength quickly faded, his blows becoming ineffective.  
Finally, he was defeated, and with his strength went the last of Genos'.   
Saitama lay on his back, staring upwards blankly. His chest rose up, shuddered, fell back down as he struggled to breath and his heart fought to beat.  
Genos lay his head down upon it, listening to his beloved's heart beat for what could only be its final moments, curling his mechanical into Saitama's.   
"Her," he said softly.  
"Tatsu . . . maki," came the faint answer. A shuddering breath. "Terrible Tornado."  
"What-" Genos took a deep breath, willing himself awake, his voice coming out distorted and slurring. "W-wwwWwwhhHat did yooOOo-oouuU do . . ."  
"I . . ." Another rasping breath, and Saitama spoke.

0o0o0o0o0  
 _Two Months Prior._

_Without his powers, he is nothing._  
 _Glad you think so, Genos._  
For the past few weeks, it had been an awkward silence between the two.   
Mealtimes were tense, with Saitama leaving early, and coming home late or not at all. When he was home, he ate the meals Genos prepared silently, avoiding his disciple's questioning gaze.   
Occasionally Genos would wait up or Saitama would make too much noise in the process of getting ready in the morning and he would have to deal with that golden gaze tracking his every move.  
Saitama did his best to brush it off, anger bubbling quietly beneath his skin.  
It was on one such day that Saitama left the apartment early in the morning, intent on catching a huge sale in the heart of City Z, when a monster appeared.  
It was fast: scuttling across streets and up the sides of buildings with remarkable haste, crushing people and cars with its eight long legs in the process. It was promptly declared threat level demon.  
Frankly, Saitama wasn't in the mood. Some other hero could deal with it, even if Saitama did step in, someone else would get the credit anyway, just like they always did.  
So he didn't bother, choosing instead to continue on his way in hope that he could catch the sale before it ended.  
That is, until the monster's rampage took it right through the supermarket.   
Saitama's festering anger took over and, as always, the monster was finished with a single powerful punch.  
"That's that, I guess." Saitama started toward home, lamenting the loss of his sale and dreading confrontation with Genos again.  
"I had that, you know," a voice trilled from behind him.  
Saitama almost didn't turn around. He knew who it was, and he also knew that ignoring it would make it so, so much worse.  
Sighing inwardly, he turned around to face Terrible Tornado.  
A crowd surrounded the glowing green ESPer, and murmurs of "it's the Class-S, rank two hero!" and "what's she doing talking to _him?"_ filled the air.  
Terrible Tornado's attention, however, wasn't focused on the clusters of adoring fans. It was entirely on Saitama. Her childish face twisted into a scowl.  
"How _dare_ you kill my monster?"  
Saitama simply stared at her, his expression carefully kept blank. He didn't bother replying. It simply wasn't worth it.  
It only seemed to make her angrier. "Baldy! You're a Class-B nothing! Egghead! Eight-ball!"  
The crowd, spurred on by the Class-S hero, began tossing jeers at him too. "Fraud!"  
"Don't go messing where you don't belong!"  
"Baldy!"  
Saitama, fuming, turned to leave. And he would've done so peacefully had Tornado not tossed out one last, careless comment in her shrill little voice:  
"Ha! That monster must've been too weak for me anyway, if someone like _you_ could've defeated it."  
The fury that had been building up over the last few weeks- at Genos, at the Hero Association, at himself- boiled over. 

0o0o0o0o0  
 _Now._

Saitama's voice faded, growing quieter and quieter as he talked until it was barely more than a whisper. "I lashed out and she . . . she fought back. But she didn't last. I . . ." his voice cracked, "I killed her, Genos. And then I . . . I murdered all those innocent people."  
His breath hitched in a ragged sob. "And then I ran and . . . I didn't come back."  
 _And we all know what happened next._ Genos didn't say it. He couldn't say it. Instead, with the last of his energy . . .  
"I love you, Saitama."  
"I . . ." Saitama's voice faded out.  
Genos saw a shadow out of the corner of his eye- did he imagine it?  
And that gruff voice, comforting him. Was it all in his head?  
He didn't know, because he had faded too.

0o0o0o0o0  
 _Epilogue- Three Weeks Later._

"Demon Cyborg! Over here!"  
"Look over here!"  
Genos ducked through the throngs of people gathered by the entrance. He didn't offer any comment, or a smile to sate the fans, choosing instead to focus his scorching gaze straight ahead, toward the double doors, where safety awaited.  
Once inside he was able to breath again, somewhat.  
The temporary hospital in City A was, per usual, bustling.  
Both nurses and patients alike gawked at him as he walked by, but he only offered them the customary cursory nods.  
"Genos!" A familiar voice cried from behind him.   
The cyborg turned to see Mumen Rider hobbling furiously toward him, cane clutched in one hand, I.V tugged along in the other.  
Sonic followed close behind, hovering protectively over the Class-C hero, violet eyes sharp. He was dressed in his normal black and silver- out of place next to Mumen's hospital gown- and the only thing distinctly different about him was the thick patch of gauze covering his forehead, half-obscured by thick strands of raven hair.  
"Good to see you, Genos!" Mumen beamed, letting go of his I.V for a moment to adjust his glasses.  
Genos couldn't help but smile. A small one, but genuine. "Is there any news on his condition?"  
"Don't you think that if there was any change since yesterday we'd tell you?" Sonic rolled his eyes.  
Mumen shot the ninja a fondly exasperated look. "Sonic, babe, it's fine."  
"It's okay. Thank you." Genos gave a small bow and muttered a goodbye and continued on his way.  
His destination- a remote room on the top floor of the apartment building-turned-hospital, tucked way back into a corner- was heavily guarded, as always.  
The guards- really just displaced heroes, looking to score a little bit of money- took one look at him and waved him through.  
They knew him. Genos had been there every day since he'd woken up, freshly repaired, in Doctor Kuseno's laboratory.  
"Saitama."  
The man who lay in the bed before him looked nothing like his Saitama.  
Tubes and wires sprung from everywhere, his mouth, the backs of his hands, the crooks of his arms, connecting to I.Vs from which hung bags filled with fluid and a large machine that continuously beeped.   
Restraints fastened Saitama's wrists to the bed. And Genos knew that, underneath the blankets, his ankles were restrained as well.  
Saitama looked thinner. Thinner than he had been a few weeks ago.  
The doctor had told him that it could happen, since Saitama had been comatose for three weeks.  
Given the circumstances, Genos was grateful that Saitama wasn't dead.  
"How are you today?" The cyborg settled into a chair next to the bed, setting his book on the bedside table next to a vase holding a bouquet of wilting flowers. "I will be sure to bring you fresh flowers tomorrow."  
The odds of the man being able to hear him- much less commenting on the state of the flowers Genos brought to adorn the rather drab hospital room- were slim. But Genos clung to that hope.   
It was all he really had, when his beloved was all but gone and the Hero Association in shambles.  
Doctor Kuseno, even, was busy nowadays. Word- via Bang, or someone else- had gotten out that he had synthesized both the cure and the death serum, and now the Hero Association, in its struggle to rebuild itself, employed him.  
He had, however, taken the time to explain how the cure- after Bang had attempted to administer it during the fight in City Z- had had an adverse reaction with the death serum that had both saved Saitama's life and rendered him comatose.  
He could've died- he and Genos both- but Bang had arrived just in time.  
And so there they were.  
Genos leaned over and pressed a kiss to Saitama's forehead.   
"I will be here when you wake up," he told him quietly.  
Then he picked up his book and began to read. "Chapter eighteen . . ."


End file.
